


Child's Play

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adult Harry, Angst, Bottom Louis, Child Louis, Crying Louis, Cute Louis, Dark Harry, Depression, Drug-Induced Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Feminization, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Innocent Louis, Loss of Control, Loss of Trust, Louis Tomlinson Wears Harry Styles's Clothes, Louis dresses in girl clothes, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overstimulation, Pedophilia, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad Harry, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Smut, Somnophilia, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tiny Louis, Top Harry, Triggers, You Have Been Warned, and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As people, we tend to blame ourselves for actions that we commit, that we know are wrong. As people, we have self-control, but once we step out of our comfort zones, once we give in slightly to temptation- it's hard to gain control over our actions...and as people, that's okay." - Anonymous.</p><p>Or, the one where Harry has Pedophilia and Louis is the muse to his sexual perversion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Book Is An Apology Letter.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hello. Read the tags at least three times before reading this story. There will be graphic depictions of rape and other non-consensual sexual acts. If you don't know what pedophilia is or the difference between a child-molester and a pedophile, please educate yourselves.
> 
> Harry, to be more specific, would fall under the hebephile group- because Louis is 12. But, Hebephilia isn't really a disorder of it's own- it's a subcategory. It has it's differences from Pedophilia because it is an attraction to pubescent children and/or children 11-14, and Pedophilia is an attraction to children in general. 
> 
> https://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/hebephilia 
> 
> Go to the link for more information :)  
> All the love, xx.
> 
> Disclaimer: I sadly do not own One Direction. This is all a work of fiction-- granted --fanfiction, to be exact.

_Soft_.

He is soft; standing 5'2 in my hoodie and his boxer briefs. He is delicate and fragile, a work of art that is far better than a masterpiece, and shouldn't be labled as such. He shouldn't be labled at all. He is more than perfection, because perfection is but an opinion. He is fact. He is truly beautiful- indescribably so.

 _Tiny_.

He is tiny; weighing only 108 pounds. Young he is, with his age being the last number on a 12-hour clock. So small, courageous and ready for action. He looks at the world with an open-mind and views people with an open-heart.

 _Smart_.

He is smart, intelligent, brilliant. He is capable of achieving anything he wants and getting anything he needs. Anything but ignorant, is he.

 _Mine_.

Oh, I wish he was mine. I wish my tainted thoughts and perverted dreams were real. I wish he would beg for me, I wish desperatley for him to lust after me.

I hope and pray. Oh, how I pray- on my knees at the edge of my bed and in the late hours at an open church. I pray for my demons to vanish and for my lustful thoughts of deflowering an innocent child to be replaced with the urge to protect the young from men like me.

My prayers go unanswered and my mind swirls with imagines I can not control.

You say that I have the power to control myself, but how much longer am I to listen to the voice in my head taunting me? How much longer am I to resist? How much can a man take before it becomes too much? How am I to control myself, when all I see when I close my eyes is prepubescent children yeilding to my every command?

You say I should seek help, but it will not cure me. There is no cure! I am a walking, breathing, and living monster!

My mind is tainted, and my body reacts to children in ways yours does not- _please don't hate me._

I wish for you to understand that I am only human- that every child is human and age should not define if you are capable of consent. Maturity is a choice people. I like my boys ripe and smart, I like my girls innocent and pure. I like my men with ambition and goals, I like my women with intelligence and elegance. I like people? What's so wrong with that?

I wish for nothing more than to be  accepted into the world with open arms. I can not shut my brain off and I can not fix what turns me on.

Do you understand? Before reading anymore, tell me you understand you _incompentent_ fools!

I am a fowl beast; every mothers nightmare. And, for that I am sorry. But, I am not sorry for falling in love- though love is not the word, _it's just not strong enough_ , to describe what I feel for the blue-eyed boy.

 _Louis_.

Precious Louis, who still has yet to forgive me for my sins, something not even God's forgiveness can uphold.

Oh, and if Mrs. Tomlinson ever finds this book, this is for you:

I am sorry.


	2. Have I got Your Attention Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't thinking rationally, and I apologize sincerely to anyone who struggles with Pedophilia, because it's men like me who make a bad name for them.
> 
> There is a thin line between a pedophile and a child molester- and I was daring to cross it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! When you guys comment like that and beg for an update. I updated so quickly. It may seem rushed, i'm sorry. I rewrote this five thousand times it seems. I hope it meets your standards. You guys mean so much to me. 
> 
> I'm aiming for twenty chapters or so- maybe more or maybe less.
> 
> Love you. And uh, please, read those tags a couple times. This is some heavy stuff ya'll. Please, keep yourself safe and don't read if it triggers you.
> 
> Heavy depictions of sexual fantasies in this chapter and how a pedophile sexually envisions a child. You've been warned.

"Take what you want, never settle for what you can get- even if it's a close second." - Anonymous.

-

I don't really remember where I got that quote from, maybe it was something an old friend told me back in High School that just stuck with me.

It doesn't quite matter now, though. Nothing really matters that much anymore, and I have no one to blame but him- well not entirley.

What happened was truly no one's fault, it couldn't have been prevented, it was set in stone. His fate was destined to intersect with mine, and it was only by the force of fate that we crossed paths.

We have a magnetic field between the two of us, a pull that's constantly tugging and pulling. And, it's for that reason, that I find myself thinking of him constantly.

You see, in another life, Louis was Ganymede and I was Zeus.

It is said that Ganymede was the most beautiful mortal. He was young- around 12 or so, and Zeus captured him in the form of an eagle and granted him eternal youth and immortality. This came with a catch, as Ganymede became one of Zeus' many lovers.

Louis and I's story is not too far off from that. Louis is beautiful and young, like Ganymede, and I stole Louis' innocence, much like how Zeus kidnapped Ganymede. Though I did not disguise myself as an eagle, I did present myself as a man with morals and respect; a man who was anything but the nightmare many fear.

I didn't gift Louis once the deed was done either, I mean, what could I give him? A hug and a box of chocolates and maybe a new toy?

Okay. Enough of that. I can't possibly expect you to understand a thing I say if I haven't told you the story yet.

-

It was anything but a good day. It was raining- particularly hard -I recall, as I was drenched from head to toe and all I had done was walk out of my house and into my car.

I was driving to work, kinda.

-

I don't want to leave anything out, but I fear your sanity.

Dear Reader, you have stepped into uncharted territory. I will not hold back anything- for this is my book, a book where I will release every detail of my crippling past.

-

So, I wasn't necessarily driving to work, but I was on a schedule I had been following since I got my job.

Everyday, on my way to work, I would drive to the park, where I would park my car and just watch; right across the street and hidden from view by the shadows of a few trees and an abandoned house.

-

Are you scared, reader? Know that this is only the begining of my story, but I must start here, for this is where I met Louis.

-

I watched on- with thirty minutes to spare -as children played around the park, swinging, climbing, running and laughing.

I watched as thick thighs flexed with every twist and turn and how sweat and rain glistened on their tan skin. I watched as their clothes clung to their frames, like the skin on their bones.

I watched, with red bitten-lips and glossy eyes.

I saw straight through their soaked clothes- undressing them with my eyes and seeing every edge and curve of their still growing bodies.

I wanted to touch- to cop a feel of their innocent figures and bring them pleasure like no other. I wanted to hear them moan, I wanted to feel them wither beneathe me, and I wanted them to beg for more, more pleasure, pleasure that would be my doing.

-

I still crave for that, and I wonder if that frightens you. It shouldn't though, because you knew from the very begining what you were getting yourself into- I've warned you, have I not?

Don't answer that question, you'll look ridiculous, as the answer has already been stated, clear as day on off-white sheets of paper.

-

I couldn't have been in my car for no more than 15 minutes- half-hard mind you -when I saw him.

He was drenched from head-to-toe, his dark denim shorts stuck to his thick thighs like glue. His blue t-shirt dipped to form a prominent V-shape in the kneck from the amount of water wieghing down on the fabric.

His sharp collarbones stuck out like a sore thumb, and his blue eyes were a sharp contrast to his dark features. His skin was a nice tan and his hair was long and appeared dark brown in its wet state. The area where he stood, under a tree to keep from the rain and away from the other children, made him an easy target.

He was shivering and his lips were purple, his arms moved to wrap around himself and he hung his head, hair falling in wet clumps to hide his pixie-like features. He was tiny and curvy and looked so innocent- so submissive.

I wanted to fuck him.

I adjusted the growing problem in my pants and then hopped out of my car.

I wasn't thinking rationally, and I apologize sincerely to anyone who struggles with Pedophilia, because it's men like me who make a bad name for them.

There is a thin line between a pedophile and a child molester- and I was daring to cross it.

-

I walked briskly over to the boy- almost as soaked as he was. I was shivering agaisnt the harsh drop in temperature, for it was a lot warmer in my car than it was outside.

He looked up at me and smiled shyly, tiny canines digging into his bottom lip, his purple lips spread in greeting.

"I couldn't help but notice kid, that you seem to be the only one not enjoying the weather." I told him, smiling down at him and leaning my back against the tree.

A million red flags should have went off in his head. He should have questioned how long I had been observing him to know that he wasn't enjoying himself, but kids will be kids; naive.

"I don't quite like being wet with water that came from puddles." He said, lips quivering as he pouted, small and slight.

I gave him a confused look and chuckled quietly; favoring the sound of the storm and the other children's laughter opposed to my own. "Elaborate."

"Well, puddles get sucked up into the sky and get stuck in the clouds, and the clouds have no fliter, so when it rains-"

"It rains dirty puddle water." I interupted him, grinning like the Cheshire cat and he replicated the same look on his face as well.

His explanation made zero sense, as only water evaporates, not the dirt and grime in it. That gets left behind. But, I only smiled, as his innocence was cute; intriguing.

"Exactly." He said, breathless and barely audible, but I heard it, soft and sweet like a gentle caress.

We stayed under the tree for a moment, the rain pouring down harder and his nails digging cresent moons into his shoulders in search of some form of heat- and please do forgive me, but I couldn't help but think of him clawing at my arms as I pounded into him.

I had a good five minutes left to spare before I had to get to work, and I needed to act quickly

"I've got to head to work soon," I told him, casting a glance around the nearly empty park, "and it looks like it's time to clear out of here. Do you live close? I could drop you off?" I offered, standing up straight and turning to face him.

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and casted his eyes everywhere but at me. "I don't know..." He trailed off, "I don't know you." He told me.

"I'm Harry and you're Kid. Now, we're done with the formalities, do you wanna ride?"

"I guess..." And, with that, I was pressing my hand in between his shoulder blades and guiding him toward my well hidden car.


	3. A Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can get whatever you want." I told him, tapping on the glass. Amanda looked at me from out of the corner of her eye, before leaning over and whispering in my ear that she was heading home.
> 
> I told her to take care of herself, and then I turned my attention back to the feathery-haired boy.
> 
> "You're really too nice. You gave me a ride home and now you're buying me treats." Louis said, his voice even, but timid, as if he were confused. It was as if he were hinting at me having a motive of sorts for being so kind to him.
> 
> "Ah! What can I say? I have a sweet spot for kids." I laughed easily, sliding the glass open and gesturing toward the many desserts within the display case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. It's been 11 days since my last update, almost two weeks. Which shouldn't be big deal. I'm sorry I can't update everyday but I want my chapters to be exceptional. I want to give you guys the best. This chapter sucks because it was rushed. But, this is what you get when you want quick updates.
> 
> Please re-read the tags. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction. This is all a work of fiction.

"Are you aware that you are everything and nothing at all? You are a minuscule particle in the universe and yet, you still manage to be my whole world." - Me.

-

Our minds and our hearts are two very different things, yet they really aren't. The common fool would tell you that your heart controls all of your feelings; that your heart is where the emotion 'love' stems from.

This, is not true. Every nerve and emotion stems from the brain, and depending on what nerve a certain emotion may hit- well, your heart might just feel the effects.

So, when Louis finally started to climb into the passenger seat of my car and then suddenly stopped, it's not that my heart literally skipped a beat. It's just that I was beginning to feel the effects of panic; rising up my throat like bile and putting a tremor in my bones and making my skin crawl.

I watched passively as he took in his surroundings and then suddenly locked eyes with me.

"Why is your car all the way over here? So hidden." He paused briefly and looked as if he was trying to remember something, but I spoke before he could.

"I always park over here." I told him, flexing my fingers and wringing my hands out nervously.

"Do you come here often then?"

"Yeah. I had a niece who passed away recently, and this was her favorite park. She's- uh -she liked to sit under these trees and make me read to her." The lie slipped passed my lips easily and the inquisitive look on his face turned somber.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry." He'd said, finally climbing into the car.

-

It was silent in the car. Louis didn't speak as he pointed with his hands which way I should be going to get to his house. I didn't attempt a conversation because I was afraid I would say something wrong, but looking back on it now, talking would have been a lot better than my thoughts.

-

Poison. There are various toxins that can harm the human body, and in short, be fatal. The most fatal of all poisons though, are the thoughts of the mentally unhealthy. Imagine, spending an entire day, with the mind of a person with a horrid disorder.

It would surely bring on confusion, right? If you were to go from a completely sane person, to a person who isn't. 

Now, picture yourself in my shoes. If you suffered with Pedophilia, and were in a car with a prepubescent child, what would you be thinking about?

I'll tell you what you'd be thinking about! You'd think about pulling your car over and fucking the kid into an immobile and incoherent mess!

I've told you a fair amount of times that my words will not be silenced, and you shouldn't be reading if you're looking for a sugar-coated backstory!

As I was driving my car to the brunette-haired boy's house, all I could think about was him giving me road head, and I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry that as I pulled up to his house, I got a good look at his address, and I'm sorry for everything that came after.

-

I was late getting to work. But, I made up for it by working well into the late hours.

It was around ten o'clock, and I was ready to clock out, when a family of four walked into the restaurant.

I noticed Louis first, and then I noticed the others.

Amanda, a waitress at the restaurant, greeted them and quickly sat them at a table of their choice. It was off to the side and by a window- lots of people like window seats or seats tucked away in corners, not many request seats out in the open.

"I think they're gonna be the last ones for the night." Amanda had said as she approached me. "They ordered their drinks already, too- here." She said, tossing me the notepad with their drinks written on it.

I quickly got their drinks- and no, I don't remember what they ordered.

Amanda tended to them and I made their food.

It wasn't until after they had eaten, did Louis approach me.

-

Louis. His name sits on my tongue like a refreshing drink. Something sweet, smooth, strong: something sure to leave a burn as it goes down.

-

He approached the counter where Amanda stood, eyes scanning the glass window that was home to a variety of sweets.

"Dessert?" He questioned, big blue eyes looking up at who I had assumed was his mother.

"I- I don't have enough money on me, Lou. We can get something cheaper on the way back home." She had told the boy. His once bright smile was swept away, and was instantly replaced with a frown.

-

That's when I stepped into the conversation.

-

"I- I can get him something. It's late, and you lot are the last ones here- so no one will say anything. The poor boy looks like he lost his favorite toy." I stepped in, "If it'll make you feel better, he can pick something small and inexpensive."

"But what if I want something expensive?" He asked.

"Louis!" His mother scolded, swatting his shoulder. He shrieked and pouted up at her, rubbing at the tender skin.

"You can get whatever you want." I told him, tapping on the glass. Amanda looked at me from out of the corner of her eye, before leaning over and whispering in my ear that she was heading home.

I told her to take care of herself, and then I turned my attention back to the feathery-haired boy.

"You're really too nice. You gave me a ride home and now you're buying me treats." Louis said, his voice even, but timid, as if he were confused. It was as if he were hinting at me having a motive of sorts for being so kind to him.

"Ah! What can I say? I have a sweet spot for kids." I laughed easily, sliding the glass open and gesturing toward the many desserts within the display case.

His parents thanked me as Louis picked the most expensive treat within the store, and I told them it was no big deal.

-

I've come to realize, that I'd do anything for Louis. I'd buy him anything and everything, but it all came at a price.

-

The weeks had droned on, meshing together until I couldn't tell them apart without looking at my phone. Everyday was the same, and I hadn't seen Louis yet, unless brief conversations at the park counted- and that was only if he was there.

It happened really out of no where. I was working late again, when LouIs' mom came in, rushing through the sliding doors.

"Oh! Sir, can I ask you a favor?" She nearly begged, searching her purse for her wallet.

"Sure! Sure! What is it?" I questioned her, taking my apron off and washing my hands.

"I know this seems sudden, and I'm oh so sorry, but can my boy come here for an hour or two?" She had asked me, carelessly throwing a fifty dollar bill on the counter.

"Yeah." The word slipped passed my lips breathlessly, and I had no time to think before the blue-eyed boy was waltzing into the diner.

"Hello..." He trailed off, seating himself on a chair at the counter.

"Hi." I grinned. Amanda walked up behind me from where she was in the back and eyed me and Louis speculatively.

"Hey?" She greeted Louis, her eyebrows raised and her thin red lips pursed.

He nodded in her direction before looking at me. I met his gaze with hot intensity, and he instantly cowered away.

"Can-can I have another treat?" He asked, pointing to a small cupcake inside the counter display.

I hummed and opened the glass. I carefully handed him the dessert and watched as his eyes lit up- bright and so blue, they put every ocean to shame.

"Thank you, Harry" He gave a quick glance to my name tag, "Or should I say: Harper?" He said, with a decisive nod.

Amanda laughed first, loud and obnoxious, which she tried to hide behind her hand.

Louis' eyes had lit up and crinkled at the sides, before he too, was laughing.

"Harry. Call me Harry. But, Amanda here," I gave a quick slap to her arm, "Thought it'd be funny to write Harper on my name tag when I trusted her to write it for me."

"It is quite funny." Louis chuckled with a mouth full of vanilla cake, whip cream dripping out of the corners of his mouth- he looked sinful.

"I suppose. I plan on fixin-"

"No. Don't." He interrupted me, eyes wide. I nodded my head in silent agreement.

-

I spent most nights like that. Louis at the restaurant and Amanda by my side, or another co-worker, until there wasn't a soul besides ours inside the diner; until... we were alone.


	4. Blurring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That night, I had blurred the line between what's good and what's bad. That night, I had blurred the line between a pedophile and a child-molester. That night, I became infatuated with Louis and all of his tea-drinking, sweet-eating, fast-talking, loud-laughing, and breath-taking beauty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated again, and you can expect another later today or early tomorrow. I love you guys. This chapter's got some heady stuff in it. Please, be careful, and re-read the tags. It's never to late to decide you can't stomach this. 
> 
> My updates are not planned. I update when I feel like it and my updates range from 2k to 7k words. Don't complain. It's a good story with a great plot, give it a go.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own One Direction. This is purely fiction with One Direction as the characters, though they act nothing like this. Okay.
> 
> xx
> 
> Oh, when the quotes are signed "-Me" that means it's something Harry quoted himself. Not really, they're actually my quotes unless they say otherwise. "-Me" is Harry/Me

"There are no lines. There never was a line. No one ever drew a line that depicted what is wrong, and what is right. We are all human, we all have different opinions. What you see as right, I may see as wrong. So, forget you're stupid line! You telling me not to cross a stupid line, is you commanding me not be human and make my own choices- it is you telling me not to do something because it doesn't sit well in your stomach. So, today, I'm blurring every line, and I want to see you stop me." - Me.

-

We were alone. It was almost time to close the diner, and Louis' mother still hadn't made an appearance. The blue eyed boy was droning on-and-on about his little sister, Lottie, the fourth - but not last - member of his family.

His lips were wet from the ice-cream he had just consumed, and he looked like every wet dream I've had to date. His eyes were unfocused, staring at me but not looking. His vision was blurred by the memory of the story he had been telling me.

-

 Cherub: A beautiful or innocent-looking child - and every pedophiles dream. Louis; my precious boy. So tiny and curvy, and full of so much energy. I promise you, he can go all night and still want more.

-

 My pants were tight and my hands were sweaty. The only thing that had been separating me and Louis, was the counter, and I'd never been so thankful, yet, I wanted nothing more than to touch him.

I wanted to map his figure with my hands, I wanted to lick the sweat from his skin as I left mark-after-mark on his upper body and thighs, I wanted to taste the lust reverberating from his quivering lips as I claimed his mouth with my own- I wanted to consume him and for him to consume me.

I wanted to be close, so close, to him. I wanted to be in him- his mind, his heart, and his body. I wanted desperately, to be everything that he craved.

 -

I thought it'd be easier. I thought I'd be able to go at least a second without thinking about prepubescent minxes; strong thighs, small frames, tan skin, innocence.

I thought I'd be able to stop the thoughts within my head, that I'd be able to shut off my brain. I can't, and I never will be able to.

I wonder, when I write these words, and you read them- how do you feel? Do you hate me as much as I hate myself? Do you detest me like everyone else? Do you execrate me- do you wish to swear and spit on me?

I am such an angry man- a lonely and very angry being.

I have so much hate within me, and I have no one to direct it towards other than myself. I have wished to kill myself many times, something that is mearly just a hope, a dream. To just simply pull the trigger, it is not something I've seen scribbled and etched and webbed into the darkest corners of my mind only once, because time does seem to repeat, as these thoughts always resurface. And, these thoughts, they pull me under, and I don't know how to swim against such a strong tide.

I wonder if you'd do the honors since I'm too much of a coward. So many of you speak so highly of yourselves, you say you'd kill a rapist and a child-molester, but if one were to approach you, and ask you to put a bullet through his brain, would you? And, if you would, would you be mindful of his family? Would you think about his mother, his siblings, and his friends? Would you not think about the fact that, yes, he ruined someone's life, but, so did you by killing him?

I wonder.

I wonder because I have time to think. I wish I didn't have time at all, I wish every clock in this God forsaken world would stop- I wish the ticking clock that is Me would stop.

I am a monster. I have come to realize that, that is the only reason why I will not kill myself. I have to deal with who I am for the rest of my life. Besides, how selfish would it be of me to kill myself? My family, whom have been kept in the dark, have no idea about the man that I am. They do not know of my secrets, no one does. Louis is the only one who knows about the monster that is me. By writing this book, I am allowing myself to be vulnerable to your judgment, and hopefully I will find peace in such confessions.

 -

"Harry!" Louis whined, beckoning me out of my tainted mind and succumbing to my lustful gaze instead. My jade green eyes met his cerulean blue ones, and what my mouth didn't dare speak, my eyes conveyed. He bowed his head and cowered in his seat, showing obvious discomfort.

 "Yes, Lou?" I had asked the boy, blinking a couple times to obscure the images of his flushed and tan figure withering underneath mine for later.

 "Were you even listening to me?" He asked, incredulously, his lips parted and eyes wide, and I couldn't help but think that he'd probably make that face when I brought him to his climax.

 "Always." I sighed, propping my elbow on the counter and leaning - just a bit - closer to him.

 -

 What happened next was a blur, something my memory doesn't and won't conjure up- something that I want desperately to release, but...

I remember the instant relief I felt; as if a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. It was the first time I had ever crossed that fine line between a pedophile and a child-molester, and I believe that's why I refuse to think about it. I refuse to remember because my life spiralled from there. Just one touch, and I needed more, I had to feed the craving that I had been starving of for years.

 -

 Louis had asked for something to drink, tea to be exact, which was in the back. I told him to come with me, and he did. We'd spent enough time together for the past week to build up a decent amount of trust. He'd figured I wouldn't betray such an emotion, such a strong tie; bond. 

 He was so wrong, though, because trust is so easy to lose and so hard to gain and maintain.

We walked to the back, where the fridge was, away from all windows and anyone who was looking to pry. I opened the fridge for him - my throat closing up as he bent down to grab the pitcher on the bottom shelf. My pants were so tight, and he was right there. I told him to get the cups as I took the pitcher from his hands and set it on a table in the small space.

I knew what I was doing, and I regret it so much.

He was short, and he couldn't reach the cups, so I walked up behind him.

I pressed my front to his side, my hard length pressing against the side of his ass as he stood on the tips of his toes. He startled, moving against me, just barely, and I bit my bottom lip to hold back any sounds.

I was so hard.

He backed away from me to give me space to grab the cups, and I did so with a heavy exhale. My lips parted and my pupils dilated.

The realization of what I had just done dawned on me, but I felt anything but guilt. I felt excitement. I felt like I could get away with doing that for the rest of my life and I'd die a happy man. The craving to touch had been fulfilled and the exotic images behind my eyes disappeared. They left me- even if just for a moment, but I had yet to find out that my urge would just get stronger.

 -

 "What time do you have to close up?" Louis had asked me. He was sipping tea and I was drinking coffee. My anxiety was sky high- I had been so worried that he knew what I had done.

 But, he didn't, and it just excited me even more.

 I was still hard, incredibly so, because the only thing I could think about was fucking Louis' thighs, the thick crown of my cock appearing and disappearing in between his thick legs. Just the very thought of it had me aching; the slick slide of my hot cum and the pulsating veins on my shaft, being felt between his thighs- chafing them and marking them in a way that my mouth could not -was enough to get me off for the rest of my damned life.

 "It's been closed since ten, kid." My voice was rough, and I cleared my throat and tried, but failed, to clear my mind. He pouted, his pink bottom lip jutted out.

 "Do you have any games on your phone, Hazz?" He asked me, leaning over the counter and grabbing my phone, I quickly snatched it off of him and he frowned. "Don't snatch, 's rude."

 "Don't touch stuff that doesn't belong to you, 's rude." I mocked him, the start of a laugh bubbling up my throat and dancing on the tip of my tongue. I smiled.

 He reached over the counter, again, and poked both of my dimples with his dainty little hands, I smiled even bigger. "Your dimples are cute, Hazzy."

 "Thank you, Love."

"I like when you call me that- Oh! And Lou, well, everyone calls me Lou, but your voice is nicer." A blush crept its way up his cheeks and he ducked his head, his fringe falling in his face. I separated the caramel locks like a curtain and revealed the masterpiece that was his face.

 "Thank you...again." I told him, my voice just above a whisper, a slow and deep _sensual_ drawl.

 His blue eyes caught hold of mine, and  he captured me within his stare. His cheeks were a pretty pink, his lips were a pretty pink, his eyes a pretty blue, his hair a pretty soft brown- everything about him was, and still is, so damn pretty. Such a beautiful angelic boy.

 "Your welcome." He whispered back, straightening up and taking hold of his cuppa.

 "If it uh- if it's any relevance to you, I like when you call me Hazz, and anything else you call me. I like it all."

 "Even if I called you a frog?"

 "Why a frog?" I asked him, taking a sip of my coffee, and furrowing my brows.

 "Cause you look like one!" He laughed, tea dripping down his chin and radiating child-like energy.

 "Ah! I see. Sure, why not? Can I call you a hedgehog, then?" I set my cup down and propped my elbows up on the counter and leant closer to him.

 "Now you're just being rude. At least frogs are cute." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing.

 "You're right. My apologies, you're far too brilliant to be compared to anything less than beautiful."

 "Are you reciting poetry, Hazza?" Louis giggled around his cuppa. I was hopelessly endeared- enamored- with him.

-

That night, I had blurred the line between what's good and what's bad. That night, I had blurred the line between a pedophile and a child-molester. That night, I became infatuated with Louis and all of his tea-drinking, sweet-eating, fast-talking, loud-laughing, and breath-taking beauty.

His mother didn't pick him up until one in the morning, and she promised that he wouldn't have to go to school tomorrow. She said that he needed eight hours or more of sleep to function properly, and he laughed about absolutely needing beauty sleep.

 I bit my tongue to hold back my opinion on him needing beauty sleep, because he could stop sleeping all together, and I'd still think he's perfect.


	5. Knee Socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lou." I choked out. He lifted his head up and looked at me, a concerned aura radiating off of him as he tilted his head at me.
> 
> "Yeah?"
> 
> "Come to work with me today, and then after you can come home with me? It's the weekend, right?" I asked him, my chest heaving and sweat sliding down my lip. If he had asked me about it, I would have blamed it on the heat.
> 
> "Are you asking me to stay the night?" He questioned, a smirk playing on his sinfully pink lips.
> 
> "I'm having family over today, and I'm going to be cooking on the grill. It wouldn't hurt to have some help around the house while they're visiting." I shrugged, my chest still heaving and my breathing still quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote over 7k words, and it all got deleted. I'm literally crying right now. I'm sorry if this is shit, but I tried, I'm just frustrated because it's 5am where I am and I didn't go to sleep because I spent the last three hours typing. I'm tired, frustrated, and crying. Enjoy this chapter.
> 
> I gifted you with gifs. Love me?
> 
> Re-read the tags okay? It's not to late to decide you don't want to read this. Be safe.  
> xx
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own One Direction. This is all purely fan fiction and a work I created using my brain.

    

 

"If you are a victim to the law, then you are justified to break it." - Me.

 -

 Dear Reader, I wish I knew the dates that I write to you about. I wish I knew what day and what month I had met Louis on, but sadly, I do not. I do not remember the dates and times, but I hope it is enough for you if I write what I know from memory? Is it enough?

The days seemed to fly when I was with Louis, and I do not recall the dates, and for this I am sorry. Is it enough if I tell you that I saw Louis almost everyday? I seen him at the park for a total of thirty minutes before work, and then his mother would drop him off at the restaurant when the clock struck ten. The only times I really didn't see him was on the weekends, or if something came up, but we always kept in touch.

For the short amount of time that I had known Louis, I forgot to write down the dates and hours of everyday that we spent together, but I never forgot a single moment we shared- it's all locked up in the confines of my memory.

 I may not write to you about everyday that we spent together, because I'm afraid I'd bore you. But, I do write in order the most important events that we shared. Is that enough?

Yours sincerely,

Harry Styles.

 

-

 It was hot. The sun had been baring down on me; perspiration pouring out of my pores. Louis chased after the multi-colored football and I collapsed on the ground. It was too hot to be playing footie, and I regretted ever agreeing to play with him. I was going to have to go into work sweaty and smelly.

 "Harry!" Louis whined, nudging my head with his foot.

 "Nngh." I groaned, looking up at him from where I lied on the plush grass.

 "Get up! We're not done." He said, no room for disagreement.

 "No, Love. Go play footie with your friends, I'm tired."

 "No!" He exclaimed, "They're all better than me." He pouted down at me, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping his feet.

 "That's okay, it'll give you a bit of a challenge, being as I suck at football." I had told him, raising an eyebrow up at him and giving him a small grin.

 "I like you better than them." He huffed out, nudging my head again. I gripped his ankle and brought him down on me. He fell on top of me with a yelp, which was followed by a series of giggles. "Play footie with me!" He laughed, positioning himself in my lap and straddling my hips. He placed his tiny fists on my chest and looked down at me, a wide smile on his face and his eyes crinkled in the corners. I smiled back, shifting beneath him so his ass was nestled on top of my dick.

"I'm tired, love. Let's just sit here for a bit." I offered, placing my hand on his thigh and giving him a small smile. His face fell and he scoffed, "You're terrible." He'd said, spreading out on me; his head on my chest, his stomach on my cock, and his feet resting on my shins.

 "And you're tiny." I stated, folding my hands behind my head.

 "I'm also twelve, who knows, I might be taller than you one day." He'd pointed out, propping his chin up on my chest where my ribcage caved. It hurt, but I didn't complain.

 "True." I'd agreed, looking down at him. He smiled at me, a quick big smile. I looked back, my eyes scanning over his pixie-like features. His pretty pink lips, his big blue eyes, his wispy hair, the barely-there freckles on his cheeks and nose, the beauty mark on his cheek. He was truly beautiful- someone I could look at forever and never get bored, I'd forever be interested in him.

 -

Louis.

I told you once, but I just can't get over his beauty.

I'll never be able to move on from the beautiful boy that is Louis Tomlinson.

He swims in a tank top and his boxers, and you shouldn't question it because he doesn't know the answer himself. He sleeps in my Hollister hoodie and a pair of boxers. He doesn't wear socks around the house. He'll argue over being the big spoon and it's so endearing, he is so endearing.

He reminds me of Coldplay and a caramel frappe. Louis is bold lyrics that have little to no meaning at all, or a strong underlining message. He is sweetness and warmth, he is everything and nothing at all. He is just another human, walking in this big world full of other humans, but he effects everyone he meets. He's a brilliant boy, and I wish I could say that I know the boy that he is now.

 -

 "You look like you're thinking really hard." He stated, raising an eyebrow at me.

 "I am."

 "About what?" He giggled, waggling his eyebrows at me in a suggestive manner.

 "You." I breathed, my eyes latching onto his, maintaining eye contact. His breath hitched and he just stared at me. His blue eyes dug deep into my being, searching and finding. I was never good at concealing my emotions, but I was good at biting my tongue. I didn't voice any of my thoughts, but I felt like he knew all of them anyways.

"What about me?" He whispered, curious.

"Everything." I replied, a smile caressing my lips.

 "Elaborate."

 "I don't know, however you want me to think about you." I shrugged.

 "I want you to think about me when I play footie, maybe it'll make you want to play."

 I thought about him, running around the field, panting and sweating. His gym shorts would cling to his frame. I thought about the heat, the sun turning his skin tanner and his hair lighter. I thought about his shirt missing, having been discarded at some point durring the game. I thought of his skin; golden and slick with sweat, and so _hot_ as he ran around the field. I thought about his fringe sticking to his forehead and him having to flick it out his eyes- revealing bright blues framed by golden lashes; like a picture frame would frame art.

I pictured myself playing with him, chasing after him instead of the ball. I would grab his hips and bring him into my chest. I would latch my lips onto his skin and suck bruises wherever I seen fit, feeling the heat of his flesh beneath my lips. I thought about dragging him back to my car and fucking him long and hard. I'd shove my dick so deep in his ass he'd feel it in his mouth.

 "Lou." I choked out. He lifted his head up and looked at me, a concerned aura radiating off of him as he tilted his head.

 "Yeah?" I cleared my throat and gave him a reassuring smile.

 "Come to work with me today, and then after you can come home with me? It's the weekend, right?" I asked him, my chest heaving and sweat sliding down my lip. If he had asked me about it, I would have blamed it on the heat.

 "Are you asking me to stay the night?" He questioned, a smirk on his sinfully pink lips.

 "I'm having family over today, and I'm going to be cooking on the grill. It wouldn't hurt to have some help around the house while they're visiting." I shrugged, my chest still heaving and my breathing still quick.

 "That reminds me," He trailed off with a nervous laugh, "My mom doesn't like you very much." He said, picking at a loose thread on my tank top.

 "And, I'll talk to her later when she drops you off if you decide you don't want to come to work with me in, like," I pulled my phone from out of my back pocket, maneuvering him so I could get it, and checked the time, "Five minutes."

 "You should talk to her when she drops me off, and if it goes well, I'll go home with you." He decided.

 "Okay." I sighed, wrapping my arms around his waist and closing my eyes, breathing in the smell of the summer.

 -

 I was cleaning off the tables when Louis and Johanna walked into the diner, a little girl trailing behind them, her thumb in her mouth and her tiny hand fisted in Louis' shirt.

 "Hello, Harry." Jay said, stopping at the table I was at. I continued to wipe off the rest of the tables before giving them my undivided attention.

 "Hey." I smiled, slinging the wet towel over my shoulder, "I was hoping to speak with you, Jay." I said, getting straight to the point.

 She gave Louis a pointed look, before smiling tightly at me and following me to the counters.

 "Louis told me today that you don't like me. Explain." I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest and standing a bit taller.

 "You- uh -you're a great guy, Harry, but with all do respect, you spend to much time with my son."

 "You're the one who drops him off here every night." I reminded her, tapping my foot anxiously against the tile flooring.

 She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me, "I only do that because I thought a co-worker would be here at all times, why isn't that one chick here like she used to be? If I had known sooner that my son was going to be in the care of a man I barely know, I would've found someone else to watch him." She huffed, rolling her eyes.

 "That's just it, though. See, you pay me fifty dollars every night to watch him, which I do dutifully- willingly -because I enjoy his company. He's a great kid, and I've been babysitting him for almost a month now, and now you want to complain? That 'one chick' has a name, and it's Amanda, and she stopped sticking around when she noticed that she wasn't getting paid to babysit like I was. And, with all do respect, where do you go anyways? Is it work?" I asked her, curious because she only drops Louis off, and not Lottie.

 "No! It's not work. Lottie, me, and my fiancé visit my daughter everyday, and I don't know if Louis told you or not, but he has another sister, and she has Lymphocytic Leukemia, and the only treatment center is eight hours away. I drive there every night, to go and see her just as she's waking up." She told me, her posture becoming less stiff, "And, Louis, he didn't take it to well. He'd become distant. He didn't hang out with his friends anymore, he stopped listening to me, he didn't get along with any of his babysitters. It was a tough time for all of us, but Louis took it the hardest."

She placed her hand on my shoulder and gave me a small, hesitant smile, "I'm not saying you're a bad guy, Harry. But, my son was practically dead, and then he met you, and he just- _his eyes_." Her gaze was distant, as if she was reminiscing and dwindling in her past, "His eyes were so _bright_ , Harry, and then- then they weren't, until he met you. The boy's father left us five years ago, and I got engaged to Mark two years ago. He doesn't play footie with Mark, but he'll run around the field all day if he could with you. He'd never dream of cooking food with me, but he'll help you make every meal a person orders in this joint if you asked, and I just wanna know why?" Her eyes were sad, and she looked so tired.

"Jay- Johanna," I stuttered out, "I- I don't know what to say. Louis' a great kid, and we get along well. I'd do anything for that boy. He's amazing to have around and I'm sorry to hear about what your daughter is going through, and I wish her the best. I'm also sorry to hear about what Louis went through, and if it was me who pulled him out of such a dark time, then you should be thanking me. I can't help who Louis feels comfortable with, that's something you need to discuss with him." I gave her a pointed look, before tossing the towel that was on my shoulder, onto the counter. I gave her one more glance, before walking over to Louis.

I allowed myself some time to cool off, talking to Louis and Lottie briefly, checking over my shoulder every once in a while, just to make sure Johanna was still there.

"You should go and ask her if you can stay for the weekend, love." I suggested, nodding my head in his mothers direction. He nodded his agreement, and grabbed onto his little sister's hand, before trotting over to his mother.

 I watched their conversation from afar, gauging her reaction as he asked her. She paused for a moment, frozen in time, before slowly nodding her head and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He smiled shyly, hugging his sister and mother goodbye, and then walking over to me.

 "So..." I whistled, leaning against the counter.

 "So, I'm staying for the weekend and meeting your family. And, we're going to play lots of football and eat lots of foo-"

 "Why didn't you tell me about your other sister?" I asked him, interrupting him. His face fell and his gaze fell to the floor. He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug and picked at his nails.

 "Okay. If you don't know, then you'll tell me now." I demanded, seating myself at the counter.

 "I told you that I had another sister, Harry." Louis avoided my gaze, huffing in annoyance when the air grew thick with silence and unperturbed tension. "It's not that I don't know why I didn't tell you, it's that I don't want to tell you." He stated.

 "See, I'm a curious person, and if you don't tell me, your mother will."

 "Fine! You wanna know? Fine, I'll tell you!" He snapped, slamming his tiny fist on the counter. "My sister has cancer and she's going to die! Chemo stopped working, and my mom started leaving! And- and it's not that I don't want to visit her, but I'd like to keep the last memory I have of her with all of her hair on her head! I hate thinking about it, but I'm reminded every night that my sister is dying when I get dropped off here. I've been through countless babysitters, but none of them- _got me_!" He strained, as if someone were choking him.

"None of them saw past the fact that my sister was dying every time they looked at me, but then I met you, an accident. I'm grateful for you, because I met you at the park, and I told my mom about you, and she went, 'Oh, what a nice thing to do.' and I agreed. You gave me a ride home when I was shivering from the inside out. I was so distant and distraught, Hazz! I stopped hanging out with my friends and listening to my mom. I don't- I met you, Harry, and nothing else- all of the bad stuff -matters anymore." He was shaking when he finished, and he reminded me of the lonely boy I had met at the park almost a month ago.

 "I don't want you to treat me differently because you know about my sister, and anything else my mom told you. I just- I'm not there anymore, you know? I'm here, and I'm fine." He said, looking drained. His words were quiet, and for my ears only. I reveled in the moments I got to spend with him, even if all of them weren't happy ones.

 "Let's go." I sighed, taking my apron off and leading him out of the restaurant.

 -

 "How can you survive without watching Cartoon Network?" He gasped. We had been on my couch, the TV on and some show about a stretchy dog and a human named Flynn or something was on. I shrugged carelessly, and watched as the dog talked to a talking video game thingy. I know now that the show is called Adventure Time, and it's one of Louis' favorite shows.

 "You're so weird, Hazzy." He scoffed, shoving my shoulder and practically reciting every line from the episode, yet I was the weird one.

 "Don't start with the name calling, Lou-Bear." I teased him, ruffling my fingers through his fringe.

 "All I did was call you weird, you had no right to call me that name. I'm not your friend anymore, and to make it official, I'm unfriending you on Facebook." He said, voice serious but his face betrayed him. I smiled at him, though his eyes were trained on the TV, "I can feel you staring." He whispered, turning to look at me.

 "Is that weird?" I asked him.

 "Yes, it's weird, but you're weird, so it's to be expected." He stated. I hummed in agreement, and then we both continued to watch the television.

 -

 "Harry, can I borrow something to sleep in?" Louis asked me, standing in the doorway to my room and cocking his hip out against the doorframe.

 "Sure, Love." I nodded, walking toward my closet and grabbing one of my hoodies, it was a navy blue Hollister hoodie, and I only remember it being that specific one because it's the only one missing in my closet.

 -

 He was practically swimming in it. The hoodie reaching just above his knees. He stood, barefoot in my doorway, in nothing but his boxers and my hoodie. He stood there, in my house, in my doorway, and he looked so angelic.

 -

 "I recall you telling me earlier that you were supposed to have family over." He said, stretching his arms out above his head, flexing his toes, and yawning.

 "Ah, yes!" I grinned, "They'll be here tomorrow, they couldn't make it today. I'm surprised you remembered, being that I forgot." I mused, patting the other side of my bed and beckoning him over to me. He strutted over to my bed, setting one knee on the mattress and lingering over me.

 "How could you forget?"

 "They called me at like, three. A little after I had clocked in." I told him, fitting my hand around his waist and forcing him into bed. He giggled, laughter muffled by the bedspread as he lay face-down on it. His perky bottom formed a perfect curve over my hoodie, the dip in the bottom of his back was prominent and my hoodie, sadly, hid his back dimples.

"They told me they'd be coming tomorrow instead of today. I guess I forgot to tell you, being as the first thing we did when we got here was watch TV, plus I worked until eleven today. They would've had to wait outside for me until I got off for like, five hours." I told him, and he scooted up the bed, curling his figure around mine. He put one of his legs over mine and threw an arm over my waist and rested his head on my chest. I folded my hands behind my head.

 "I get off at three tomorrow and I'm going in at six, do you think you can handle being here by yourself, or do you wanna come into work with me? My family won't be here until a little after I get off, so you'll be alone." I said, moving one of my hands to curl an arm around his waist. My hand rested on his plush stomach, the fabric of my hoodie blocked me from touching his soft skin. I drew random patterns into the hoodie and felt his stomach muscles jump under my ministrations.

 "I don't mind staying here." He shrugged, "And, if you got off at eleven today, then you left early, 'cause we left at like ten-fifteen." He hummed, voice groggy and thick with the need to sleep.

 "I could tell you wanted to leave." I pressed my hand flat on his stomach, and he squeezed my hip.

 "You could get in trouble."

 "I don't care, Love." I dismissed, "Let's go to sleep, okay? I'll see you at three."

 He nodded his head against my chest and then closed his eyes.

 -

 I'm so sorry, to whoever is reading this. And, if Johanna is reading this, I can only imagine the pain and utter disgust you must be feeling. You must hate yourself, being a mother and not understanding why your son is the way he is now, and then finding out like this. You must be feeling so sick. I wonder if you've confronted your boy- our boy -yet? I hope he is okay, Jay. I'd like to apologize from the deepest depths of my heart, my cold heart that is filled with so much love for Louis and so much hatred towards myself.

What I did was unforgivable, for I became a monster when I met Louis. I don't recognize myself anymore, and I'm sorry for asking for forgiveness, I'm sorry for asking for acceptance.

 -

 When I woke up it was three o'clock in the morning, and I was hard. Louis' leg was tossed lazily over mine, his head was in the crook of my neck, and his hoodie had risen up. Thick puffs of air fanned out across my kneck and his lips barely grazed my sweaty skin as he breathed in and out. His milky skin- his lusciously thick thighs -were exposed.

My hand was so close to his pretty little cock, as my hand was resting on his stomach where the hoodie was bunched up, as if I was pulling it up in my sleep. I moved my hand down, just a bit, until my fingertips touched the soft skin of his abdomen. His abdomen clenched and he let out a shuddery breath against my kneck, snuggling closer to me, his cock pressed against my thigh.

 -

 I should have stopped, but I couldn't, and I'm so sorry. I wonder if you can read the words I write? My hands shake as I write word-for-word the events of that night, and no matter how hard I grip my pencil, my hands continue to shake. I've buried my demons for so long, I've hidden from my mistakes and pushed the memory of Louis into a tiny cubicle in the back of my mind. I shoved him into my closet, as one of my many skeletons, as one of the many things that haunt me.

 -

I used quick, yet careful movements to hike the hoodie further up his body. He squeezed my hip and buried his face in the skin where my kneck met my shoulder, pressing his soft pink lips to my feverish flesh. I bit my lip and concentrated on the feel of his body pressed so close to mine. I felt my cock pulsing-throbbing and aching -in the confines of my pants and it felt like there was a furnace inside of me. It felt like someone lit my insides on fire because everything had been so hot and it felt like every touch had been intensified. I could feel the bedding beneath me, a soft cotton. I could feel Louis' cock pressed against my thigh, his boxers thin and loose and his prick hot against me- or maybe it was me who was hot. Like I said, everything was hot, so I had no way of telling whether it was the temperature in the room, or if it was just me.

 I was so turned-on, turned-on in the frustrated type of way. I wanted to rip my skin off of my body and milk my dick until I was cumming dry. I wanted to soak myself in cold water with my hand around my cock, still hard despite the drop in temperature, and I'd pump my thick length until I couldn't fight the release that was building up inside of me, making my stomach clench and my balls tight.

 It was the first night I had ever had Louis over my house, and I had no idea if he was a light or heavy sleeper, and I was lucky to find out that he slept like the dead.

I wasn't thinking with my head- well I was, but not the right one. I turned over in his grip so we were facing each other, the leg that had been draped over mine, was now trapped between my thighs. He made a displeased sound, a small pout gracing his delicate features before the crease in his brow disappeared and his face became content again. I squeezed his body flat against mine, his face inches away from mine, the exposed skin of his stomach stuck to the sweaty skin of mine and his thick thighs wrapped around one of my legs. I shifted my hips, the bulge in my pants rutting against his thigh. His skin was hot, but mine was hotter.

 I rolled my hips into his thigh, grinding my throbbing erection into him shamelessly. I was breathing heavily, my nostrils flaring as I forced my lips shut so I wouldn't make any sounds. My chest was heaving and my heart was beating against my ribcage like it was trying to escape. My stomach muscles jumped against his tan skin and it was all so erotic.

I was literally humping his leg, and it's something that you'd expect from a middle schooler. But, he was right there, and I was so hard. I kneaded his ass in my big hands and gauged his reaction, he didn't do much but make a face before scratching lightly at my back. My eyes rolled into the back of my head in ecstasy as I rutted against his thigh in fast circular motions.

 Visuals of Louis on his hands and knees with my dick buried deep in his tight hole made an appearance. I seen myself dicking into his plump ass, my hips snapping against his round bottom, and the sounds of his high whiny moans filled my head.

 I groped his ass, and kneaded his cheeks, cupping them in my hands and digging my nails into the thick flesh as I grinded against his thigh. I was so close, and I was determined on cumming. I parted my lips when I felt the beginning of my orgasm creeping up on me and making my throbbing erection sensitive to every touch.

 A groan, low and sensual slipped past my lips, "Oh _fuck_!" And then I was cumming, hard. My climax crashed upon me and I rode it out in euphoria, rutting my dick hard and fast against his thigh, my cum seeped out of my pants and wet his skin, and my hands dug crescent moons into his full cheeks.

When my orgasm left me just as fast as it had come, I closed my eyes and fell limp and bone-tired against my sweat-slicked sheets.

 -

 When I woke up two hours later, Louis was sleeping soundly in my bed and it hit me like a train what I had done to him. It felt like someone had tied me to train tracks and a train had run me over, but I didn't die. But, the pain was excruciating and no one would untie me, and I was just helpless and in dire need of medical attention. It felt like I was burning, like someone had lit me on fire and all I could do was burn- never to perish and turn to ash. All I could do was burn, and every time my body got use to the heat, it just got hotter and the flames grew bigger.  

 I pushed the guilt I was feeling deep down inside of my soul, swallowing past the lump in my throat and promising to deal with the consequences of my actions when the time came.

 I cleaned up my mess regretfully, wiping dried cum off of Louis. Then, I headed to work, and tried to keep a positive mind-set, as my family was due to come over after my shift.

 -

 When I came home, I could hear loud music thumping throughout the house. It was my Arctic Monkeys and The Neighborhood mash-up CD. The rich voice of Alex Turner was serenading my ears about his baby in knee socks and his sky blue lacoste. I unlocked the door and stepped into the threshold.

The music was louder in the house and I hummed along to the lyrics. " _The late afternoon. The ghost in your room that you always thought didn't approve of you knocking boots. Never stopped you letting me get hold of the sweet spot by the scruff of your, knee socks._ "

 I walked farther into the house, turning into the kitchen, and stopping when I saw...Him.

 He was in nothing but a pair of tight and small denim shorts- no doubt females clothing -and one of my see-through white shirts. He was dancing around my living room, singing loudly to Alex's sensual voice. His hands were thrown over his head and he twirled around the room, his eyes squeezed shut and a broad smile on his face. His hair was messy as if he hadn't brushed it yet, but he still looked absolutely ravishing. His fluffy fringe bounced across his head as he danced sensually to the music, his tiny hands roaming his delicious body.

 _"You and me could have been a team._  
_Each had a half of a king and queen seat,_  
_Like the beginning of mean streets._  
_You could be my baby._  
  
_When the zeros line up on the 24 hour clock,_  
_When you know who's calling even though the number is blocked,_  
_When you walked around your house wearing my sky blue lacoste_  
_And your knee socks."_

 Louis sang loudly, his delicate voice belting the lyrics in pure euphoria. He was  _euphoric._ A diamond in a pit of zircon, a rarity, a gem, the light in the dark.

 His thick thighs jiggled as he bounced around the room, the song coming to a close, but he wasn't done. He looked so alive. I'd play the song again if he asked, just to see him dance some more. Surprisingly, it didn't make me hard, even though he looked so fuckable- practically begging for it. Watching him dance only made me want to join him, to take his small hands in mine and twirl around the room. It made me want to toss him over my shoulder and spin in circles until we both were dizzy and high off of Fun. It made me want to feel as alive as he looked.

 He was just dancing, but he looked like he was having the best time of his life. I stepped into the room just as the song ended. His eyes snapped open, and his pupils were blown and he was radiating child-like energy. He had sweat dripping down his hairline and sweat gathering on his upper lip, making him look all the more delectable. I could see his tan skin through my white shirt and his cute little shorts. My shirt fell just above his knees and you wouldn't have known if he had anything under it if it weren't see-through. His short dark denim shorts were visible through the fabric and straining against the thickness of his thighs.

 "Hi." He squeaked, pushing his fringe off of his head and mussing it up even more.

 "Hello, Love." I said, my voice soft and gentle, caressing his ears as the song Baby Came Home Today blared through the speakers. Jesse Rutherford's voice sang lyrics about his baby leaving him. Soulful lyrics that settled deep within my bones, a powerful bass that thrummed through my veins and accelerated my pulse.

 "How long have you been here?" He asked me, cocking his hip out and resting a hand on said hip.

 "Long enough to see you dancing around the room to Knee Socks. Why?" He shrugged his shoulders and tapped his foot against the carpet to the beat of the music.

 "I don't know. 'S a bit embarrassing to be honest." He admitted.

 "Don't be embarrassed around me, Lou. You can dance all around this place and I wouldn't do anything but join you." I gave him a half smile, "Is there any reason why you're dancing anyways?" I questioned, sitting on the arm of the nearest couch.

 "No reason. When I woke up, I was feeling excited, so I pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt-"

 "My shirt." I corrected him, dimples creasing my cheeks, and my eyes stared at the way my shirt cascaded over his small frame.

 "About that..." He trailed off, fidgeting in his spot, "I quite like your clothes, and I really like this shirt, and I know I shouldn't go through your stuff if you're not here, but I didn't think you'd mind since you let me wear your hoodie to sleep last night-"

 "Louis." I laughed, cutting him off. He stared wide-eyed up at me, sheepish. A blush crept its way up his cheeks and he ducked his head, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "You're rambling, dear."

 "S-sorry." He stuttered out.

 "You can wear anything you want, Louis." I told him.

 "Even a sky blue lacoste and knee socks?" He teased, sharp canines biting into his lower lip as he grinned at me. I spluttered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.

 "How about my shirt and some knee socks?" I teased back, smirking at him. His eyes widened and he looked down at the shirt he was wearing, seeing his cute, tan litte tummy through the thin material.

 "Yeah." He breathed, "This shirt, black and white knee socks, and a pair of lacey knickers," He giggled.

 "Like I said, you can wear whatever you want," I said, my voice rougher and my pupils dilated as I pictured Louis on his knees, sucking and teasing the wet tip of my cock in nothing but the outfit he described.

 "Nah. I'm quite content with just a couple pair of knee socks and thigh highs, yeah?" He asked me, eyes wide and his tiny hands fisting my shirt and making it tighter around his thick hips.

 "Yeah." I agreed.

 "Okay, when can we get them?" He asked me, dead serious. I spluttered, again, and gave him a pointed look- because he had to be joking -but he only looked at me with his eyebrows raised and a wide smile on his face.

 "When my family leaves, we'll go to the mall and get you whatever you want, love." I said, just as a knock at my front door signaled their arrival.


	6. Clothes are for People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though, it was a very brief moment, my thoughts weren't plauged with visuals of Louis and I doing anything sexual. My thoughts were filled to the brim with pictures of Louis' eyes, his nose, his hair, his laugh, his smile, his accent, and everything else that I seemed to have fallen in love with. He was wrapped around me and dozing off on my shoulder, breathing soft puffs of air onto my kneck and all I could think about was how much I loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the wait. I spent all week writing this, and I've rewritten it over and over again. It's unedited and I'm working on the next chapter now, which is where the story will start getting into some of the heavy tags, okay?  
> I want to thank every single person who takes the time to kudo and comment and I love you for it. I'm a shitty updater, but I'm trying, because I want this work to come off as realistic. It's realistic, right? Like, I don't know, I'm rambling.  
> You guys should listen to the songs listed in the chapter when they play so you can get a better visual.  
> Thank you, So much.  
> All of you. Even the quiet ones.  
> xx

"Electric blues that flash like the blue shade in police lights. Dull greys that look like a storm cloud's whispy tail, dulling the color of the blue sky beneath it. Bright ceruleans that put the ocean to shame. Sharp saphires. Cold and cobalt crystals. Your eyes are anything but blue love. They are different, unique even. Not blue." - Me.

-

Have you ever looked into someone's eyes, and fell in love with their beauty? I believe people mistake love at first sight, with falling in love with someone's eyes at first sight. When we meet people, we instantly try to find their eyes before anything else, it's instinct. Louis' eyes, I fell in love with them as soon as my jade eyes met them. I stared so intensly into those crystal grey-blue eyes, speaking with my eyes, everything my mouth could not. He answered back with a smile, my precious boy. So innocent.

Louis' eyes.

Blue-greys that look dull, yet, his eyelashes frame them as if they are art. Saphire cerulean eyes that look like the gem itself. The blue flashing lights on police cars have nothing on the eletric blues that belong to Louis. It's hard to believe that I once stared into those cobalt blues; so bright, so pretty.

Louis' eyes make me want to jump off of Burj Khalifa- the tallest building in the world.

Louis. He is beautiful, truly. The air in my lungs, the beat of my heart, the soul to my body. Louis. He is wondeful, honestly. The blood in my veins, the feeling in my nerves, my sixth sense.

-

The boy sat, his legs tucked underneath him and a cool serne falling over him in waves. He conversed casually with my family as if he had known them for years, not ten minutes. My mother was going on about some recipe she'd be giving me, and Louis was nodding his pretty little head. He'd said something about wanting to help me make it, and it brought a toothy smile to my face.

-

Louis, Oh Louis. You have no idea. My love for you is unforgiving, it holds tight to my heart. Unyielding, it is. My love for you won't die and it will not stop- never will it hault and give me a break. I do not breathe air through my lungs for myself, I do not live for myself, but for you. Every thing I do is for you, my love.

Forever- my love for you has a name, Louis, and it is Forever.

I have no way of knowing if you will ever hold this book in your hands and read these words with your eyes, but if you do, I want you to know that I love you. It may be painful for you to know this fact, for you to accept. But, it is true, and it is just as painful for you, as it is for me.

-

"Ms. Anne, me and Harry didn't make dessert, but we worked hard over the grill to make some burgers and ribs." Louis' tiny voice said.

"I cooked the meat, don't listen to him. He didn't even go near the grill." I corrected, pinching his cheek. He batted my hand away and grimaced. "I did too!" He whined, rubbing his cheek.

"No," I stated, "You didn't."

"Whatever." He scoffed, rolling his pretty blue eyes and flicking his fluffy fringe. He faced my mother and gave her one of his award winning smiles, "I made all of the side dishes, though."

"You burned the maccaroni." I grumbled, "I don't trust you in the kitchen, Lou." I spoke up. My mother laughed fondly, patting Louis' knee- as she was sitting right next to him. "It's okay, dear. Harry wasn't always good in the kitchen. But, it was nothing that I couldn't fix. I could help you out, hmm?" She pursed her lips, and her eyes were wide. One of her delicate eyebrows was raised in question as she combed her nimble fingers through Louis' hair. He slowly nodded his head and gave her a lopsided smile.

"I don't plan on learning to cook anytime soon. I like it better when other people do it for me."

"You're lazy." I teased, a fond smile dimpling my cheeks and crinkling my eyes.

"Is that a bad thing? I'm like, twelve." I shook my head, and looked over at my mother, who was looking at Louis.

"Mum." She lifted her gaze, looked at me, and hummed. "You're free to eat, you know? Gemma and dad are outside eating on the patio." I told her, "Why don't we join them?"

Louis instantly bulted up, knocking my mothers hand out of his hair, and bounded past me and toward the kitchen. My mother stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of her pants. She grabbed my bicep and smiled at me, which I returned, and we made our way into the kitchen and out the back door.

The weather was fairly nice that day, and Louis' tan skin looked gloden. The sun's rays made my shirt all the more see-through as he talked animatdely with my sister. She had to have told him something funny, maybe something about me, because his eyes crinkled, his smile grew, and a laugh filtered the air. He looked so young; carefree and innocent. Not a thing could ruin that moment.

"Louis!" I called, watching as he gave my sister a lopsided smile and then walked over to me.

"Yeah?" He asked, squinting up at me and trying to block the sun from getting in his eyes.

"Don't get my shirt messy with sauce or something, okay?"

"Your shirt!" He laughed, "This 's mine, now."

"Is that so?" I crossed my arms over my chest and bit the inside of my cheek. He giggled at me, and nodded his head. "It's practically a dress on you, Lou."

"What's wrong with wearing a dress?" He pouted, his brows furrowing. He looked down at the shirt, and grabbed the hem of it, stretching it out. I sighed and he looked back up at me, a frown still on his face. "Nothing's wrong with wearing a dress, Lou. I might have a dress in my closet, I dunno." I shrugged.

"You don't have a dress." He gasped, crossing his arms over his little chest.

"You're right. I don't, do you?" I asked him. He bit his lip, contemplting his answer, before casting his gaze to over my shoulder and shuffling his feet. He nodded his head slowly, sheepishly.

"Okay."

-

I tried to fight the images swarming behind my eyes, but to no avail. I thought of Louis- I mean, when am I not thinking of him?- in a dress, a summer dress. A short baby blue dress, tight at the top and flowing in blue waves at the bottom. I thought of Louis, dancing and spinning around my living room in nothing but a dress and knee socks as he listened to one of my CDs. His pretty hair bouncing on his head and his hips moving to the beat of the music. His small voice singing along to the lyrics, his eyes closed tight as he got the feel of the song playing, and his eyelashes cascading agasint his cheeks. The dress would rise as it got caught in the air from his quick movements and I'd get a glimpse of his thick thighs.

I'd be standing in the doorway, and he'd open his eyes and reveal his electric blues to me. I'd kneel before him, and watch the way his breathing would start to falter. Maybe he'd gasp out my name and place his small hands on my shoulders, and I'd lift up his dress to find that he was wearing nothing underneathe it. He'd beg me then, he'd beg for me to please him and I would. I would map his body with my hands and drink in the sight of his gloden skin with my eyes. I'd taste his lust with my tongue and I'd claim his mouth with my lips. I'd watch the way his chest rose and fell as I wrapped my hand around his leaking prick and brought him to his release.

The things I'd do to the boy that had stood before me, were those that a only monster would actually commit.

-

"You don't think it's weird if I wear girl clothes?" Louis asked me, still shuffling his feet.

"Clothes are for people, Louis, not genders."

"Then how come there's a girl and boy section at stores?"

"If it's okay for girls to wear boy clothes, love, then it's okay for boys to wear girl clothes." I told him, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a small smile. He mumbled something that I hadn't catched and then gave me a lopsided grin.

"Okay, umm, I won't get anything on your- _my_ -shirt." He smirked, and for a moment I hadn't quite caught on to what he meant. But, then I remebered how our conversation had started in the first place, and I just nodded my head.

"Hey, Harry!" Gemma called and I gave Louis one more smile before walking toward my sister. She was sitting at the table on the patio, only a few feet from where I was standing in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"You got a hose?" She asked me, setting her fork down and wiping around her mouth with a napkin.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

She completley disregaurded my question and instead asked me another question, "Where's it at?" I huffed and told her I'd go and get it.

I turned around on my heel and walked back into the house, small feet pattering behind me. I rolled my eyes at his nosiness and continued walking, passing my living room and going into the basement. The feet stopped at the top of the stairs and I turned around- already at the bottom -looking at the figure standing in the doorway. "You coming?" I asked him, but he quickly shook his head.

"Why?"

"Basements are creepy." He said, cocking his hip and placing his hand on it.

"Is that so?" I teased, mocking his stance.

"I'll," He paused, and took a step down the stairs, "I'll go down if I can get on your back."

I shrugged my shoulders even though my heart had been racing against my chest and my breathing had picked up. My hands shook slightly, but I made my way back up the steps anyway. I turned around on the step before his and kneeled down so that he could get on my back. He did it quickly, his nails dug into my shoulders and his legs wrapped around my waist.

My breath hitched and my blood grew hot, boiling and making me feverish. I was feeling lustful; libidinous; the feeling of having a stong sexual drive. It felt like, with every step I took down the stairs, that I was driving into the World of Lust. My mind was clouded as he dug his nails into my shoulders, hard enough to feel it through my shirt, and wrapped his legs around my waist, his thick thighs tight around my hips. The need to have him like this, but with our clothes off and my dick burried between his ass, [[o.o was a carnal desire.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and he made no move to get off of my back, and I was happy for that, but it felt like I couldn't breathe. Every breath I took was excruciating, crushing my lungs and hardening my confind member.

I quickly found the water hose and made my way back up the stairs, eager to get Louis off of me and give myself time to actually breathe air that wasn't contiminated with my growing lust.

-

"Why'd you need a hose?" I asked my sister, handing the green water hose over to her and placing my hands on my hips. She raised one of her shoulders in a lazy shrug and twirled a strand of her bleach blonde hair.

"Me and Louis are gonna get wet." She sighed, grabbing Louis' arm, who was standing to my left, and tugged him back into the house to hook the hose up to the kitchen sink.

-

Louis walked out of the house, the hose in his hand and his thumb over the mouth of it as he pointed it upwards. He shouted a quick, "Go!" and water gushed from the hose. Louis kept his thumb pressed into the mouth of it and it caused the water to come out like rain- soaking everyone near him. The shirt he was wearing clung to his frame like a second skin and it reminded me of the day I had first met him.

-

He was still so beautiful.

The shirt was drenched in water and fell over his figure like a skin tight dress. The collar of the shirt drooped and fell off of his left shoulder and exposed his collarbones- which were visible anyways due to the see-through material. His skin was golden and wet, and his thighs were tan and thick. His laugh was boisterous and his accent was sharp. He was so prominent, you couldn't miss him.

It felt like someone had carved my heart out of my chest and put it in the palm of his hand. He held me, all of me- my life, my soul, my mind. He is my dirtiest sin, but at the same time, the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I was damned from the start- born with a curse and surviving Hell. I walk on hot coals and breathe in fire. I'm burning from the inside out, and he is the cold glass of water at the end of my journey.

I know I'm not making much sense right now, but I can't explain my love for him in words. I can't explain my hatred for my feelings in letters and numbers. I can't write out my thoughts, because half the time I don't even know what I'm thinking.

I'd rather smother myself, than hear him cry. I'd rather kill my mother, than see him unhappy. I'd rather him spit in my face, than feel somone else's lips against my own. I'd rather him hate me, than see him hold somone else's hand.

I'd rather die, than be the man that he depises most in this world.

I wish I could give him a gun, and tell him to kill me; to end the life of the man that took his away.

-

"Louis!" Gemma shrieked, a smile tugging at her lips. She wrestled Louis over the hose and they soaked each other with water. They changed the water pressure a couple times and laughed loudly. It's a memory I can't ever forget, because Louis looked so happy. He was wet, and laughing, and literally a part of the family.

"'Arry!" He cheered, squirting me with water and giggling loudly. Gemma gasped and quickly took the hose from him while he wasn't paying attention to her. He turned towards her with a disgruntled look on his face, and I snuck up on him, picking him up and throwing him over my shoulder. Gemma pointed the hose at us and I spun us in a quick circle, causing us both to get wet.

-

My cheeks were hurting from the force of my smile, and Louis' laughter rang loudly in my spacious backyard. My mother was watching us fondly and my father was chuckling lowly. I loved Louis then, it hit me hard. I loved his laugh, his smile, his attitude towards life and others. I loved his eyes and his hair, and the crinkles in his smile. I loved his laugh lines and his energentic dancing. I loved him- I still love him.

-

I set him down slowly, my smile faltering and my eyes softening. I held his gaze, and he stared back. His smile was still present and it was there, for me. My breath hitched and my heart stuttered and the world stopped- Louis was smiling, and his eyes were bright, and I was so enraptured? Captivated? Enamored? I couldn't, and still can't, find the words to explain how Louis made me feel. Love- undeniable and balant love.

"I love you." The words fell from my lips with too much passion and so much sincerity. Louis' smile widened, and his eyes crinkled, and my chest was in pain.

"I love you, too, Curly." I definatley died when those words passed his lips and reached my ears. I ruffled his hair and gave him a dimpled smile, even though all I wanted to do that day was kiss him until the only proper thought he could form was, 'I love you'.

"Awe! Harry, how'd you manage to find him, like, where can I get one?" My sister cooed, making weird faces at Louis like he was an infant.

"I'm literally his babysitter." I deadpanned, and Louis' face fell.

"Really?" He admonished, crossing his arms. Gemma dropped the hose and made quick to bring him into an embrace.

"No! Lou, you're my friend, too." I made to pull him out of Gemma's arms, but she hissed at me and I backed away. I turned my head toward the forgotton water hose, and sprayed her in the face with it.

The day dragged on like that for a few more hours until my family had to leave. I hugged them and thanked them for coming, and they promised to visit soon.

-

"Are you sure you want to do this? We'll have to go into the naughty stores, Love." I squeezed Louis' shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile as he nodded his head.

We were in a mall, a big one. I don't remember the name of it, but it was big and had lots of shops in it.

When my family left, Louis was quick to remind me of the deal we made earlier. I told him to take a shower and put on some dry clothes before we left the house to go to the store and get his knee socks. He did so without a complaint and we were out of the door within an hour.

"We could always get some footie knee socks, Lou. You don't have to go into-"

"Do you want me to wear boy clothes?" He asked me, eyes wide and a frown present.

I stumbled to find the right words to say, but I didn't really know how to answer that. "I want you to be comfortable."

"I'm comfortable in anything, really. Girl clothes. Boy clothes. It doesn't matter." He shrugged, "But it seems like you'd be more comfortable if I wore the clothes specified for my gender."

"It's not that." It wasn't like I could tell him that seeing him in knee socks and one of my shirts would give me a _problem_ in my pants.

"Then what is it?" He asked me, still walking in the direction towards a women's lingerie store.

"It doesn't matter. You can wear what you want, Louis." I sighed.

"I love you?" He was pouting, and he looked so unsure as the words fell from his pink lips.

"I love you, too. Now, go in." I ushered him into the shop and almost instantly, people were staring at us as if we had two heads. Louis didn't pay any attention to it, and instead started roaming the aisles. I follwed behind him, trying not to picture Louis in any of the lingerie displayed, but I've never been good at controlling my mind.

"Here." He breathed, stopping infront of a row of knee socks and thigh highs. There were ones with ruffles, lace, patterns- you name it. His delicate hands traced the fabric of a pair of light, soft pink knee socks with white lace at the top. "These." He said.

"Okay." My heart was racing and my nostrils flared at the mere thought of him in such attire.

"I'm not done." He told me, placing the light pink socks in my hands and then moving on.

He ended up getting three pairs of knee socks- the light pink ones, a pair of white ones with black ruffles at the top, and some baby blue ones that were a darker blue at the top. He also got a pair of thigh highs that were all white. He made a few jokes about getting a lace thong and some colorful knickers. I was so hopelessly endeared.

-

"I wanna put them on." He said, clutching the baby blue socks in his tiny hands, "And I want to wear your blue American Eagle hoodie."

"You can do whatever you want." I waved him off, bringing my glass of white wine to my lips. I promised myself I wouldn't drink to the point of intoxication, because I didn't trust myself.

I'll never trust myself.

"Can you play your Arctic Monkeys and so-and-so CD?" He asked, already prancing out of the living room and into my room. I nodded my head and got up to put the CD in. Once the CD was playing, I skipped a couple tracks and played Arctic Monkeys' song 505.

The melodic tone played and soothed any unnerving feeling plaguing my mind. I hummed along softly, as it was one of my favorites by them.

" _I'm going back to 505, If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive, In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side, With your hands between your thighs_." I sang softly, just as Louis walked into the room.

He was swimming in my hoodie, the blue fabric loose on his curvy figure and reaching just above his knees. The thin blue material of the socks contrasted greatly with the bold color of my hoodie, yet blended perfectly with the top of the knee socks being a darker shade of blue. It was an ombre effect, the base of the knee socks being a soft baby blue, the top being a slightly darker shade, and my hoodie being a bold dark blue. He looked so beautiful, and I craved to reach out and touch him.

" _Stop and wait a sec,_  
_Oh when you look at me like that my darling,_  
_What did you expect_."

The song continued on, and Louis hummed the lyrics, tapping his waist and making his way toward me. "I love this song. I think I've got every song by them memorized." He told me, seating himself next to me and looking up at me with is big sapphire eyes.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. They're really good."

"Do you wanna dance?" I asked him, tilting my head towards the stereo.

"Only if you dance with me." I set my glass down and hummed in agreement, already moving to stand up. Louis followed suit, moving to stand infront of me. I stared down at him, willing my cock to stop swelling within my jeans.

"Well, go on then." I lightly shoved his shoulder and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He took in a shaky breath as the song changed to I Wanna Be Yours, and then he closed his eyes, his eyelashes kissing the skin of his cheeks.

He lightly pushed me back, and I gave him room as he brought his hands up to his hair, messing up the caramel locks upon his head. I moved to turn the music up louder- almost deafeningly loud, but he didn't seem to care. With the music turned up all the way, he was belting the lyrics and jumping around excitedly. His small figure spun in circles- causing the hoodie he was wearing to rise and show off his lushious thighs. He moved his hips to the beat, and a large smile was placed on his face. I reached out and took one of his small hands in mine and spun him around. I sang along loudly with him as we shuffled around the large space that was my living room.

His bright cerulean eyes opened and he met my eyes with a smile. I danced in circles with him. I glided across the room in my socks along the wooden floorboards and he laughed at me.

He chased after my hands, grappeling at my biceps and arms, holding onto me as we moved. The CD was upbeat, playing songs like: Knee Socks, Arabella, Mardy Bum, Fluorescent Adolescent, Do I Wanna Know, and more. He was electric, and I was the spark. I was fire, and his touch ignited my flames.

"You've got killer moves, Hazza." Louis giggled, watching as I practically did the robot in hopes that it'd suffice as a proper dance.

"How do you figure I should dance then?" I asked him, a pout forming on my mouth. I grabbed my glass off of the coffee table and took a sip of the wine inside, before turning my attention back to Louis.

"I dunno." He shrugged, "Like this." He swivvled his hips to the beat of Arabella, running his tiny hands through his hair and singing along to the song. I laughed softly, gripping his wrist and forcing him into my chest. He clutched my shirt in his tiny fists and pressed his face into my chest.

"I don't know if I can move like you, love." I sighed.

He pulled away from me, and locked eyes with me. "I'm tired." He mumbled, yawning for effect. I cooed lightly, pinching his cheeks and picking him up. He instantly wrapped his legs around my waist and rested his head in the crook of my kneck.

-

Though, it was a very brief moment, my thoughts weren't plauged with visuals of Louis and I doing anything sexual. My thoughts were filled to the brim with pictures of Louis' eyes, his nose, his hair, his laugh, his smile, his accent, and everything else that I seemed to have fallen in love with. All I could think about was how much I loved him.

-

I gently placed him on my bed, and moved his fringe off of his forhead so I could press a kiss into his skin. My lips may have lingered longer than they should have, but Louis didn't complain, he just made a content sound in his sleepy state and grumbled about me snuggling next to him in bed. So, I climbed into bed after ridding myself of my jeans and unbottoning a few buttons on my shirt. I pulled Louis on top of me and he rested his head on my chest and my arms wrapped around his waist and I pulled him tightly against me. I could feel the tendrils of sleep curling around me and fogging my brain.

My eyes closed and I drifted into a dreamless sleep.

 


	7. Grand Romantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you gonna tell them?" I asked him.
> 
> "I don't know." He replied, hands shaking as he hopped out of the car, giving me one last look, and then running up his stairs and knocking on the front door. I waited until someone answered, and then I left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I bet you're all wondering where the Hell I've been, well, truth is, I've been writing. But, when I write, I end up deleting what I jot down and rewrite. So, yep, I've been writing, disliking, deleting, rewriting. Because I refuse to put out anything you guys wouldn't enjoy.
> 
> This chapter contains a dub-con act, and also angst and sadness- and I tagged all of those things, so make sure you reread the tags every chapter, because you never know if I'll decide to add or take away a tag. It's good to read the tags to know if you still want to read this story.  
> xx
> 
> Forgive me for any spelling mistakes, it's late and I had this already edited and it was 100% better than this piece of shit, but my PC crashed and I had Windows 8.1 updates and I had to restart it, so now I'm back to Windows 8. I'm a bit pissed :/ 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, nor do affiliate with them. My characters' only resemblance to the boys of One Direction is their appearance, I in no way, believe the boys act like the characters in this story, nor do I believe they have partaken in any of the acts committed in this story. This all a work of pure fiction- granted, fan fiction.

"You are the light in the dark, the spark to my flame, the lips to my kiss, the touch to my fingertips, the body to my soul, the beat to my heart, the vision to my eyes, the voice to my words. You wanted me to explain what I meant when I said I needed you, well, there you go. I need you! I need you! I _need_ you! I didn't think there was a feeling deeper than love, but there is. It's when need and love get tangled together to form an emotion that is yet to be named, and it's what I feel for you."- Me.

-

It rained today, and I'm sure by now that you understand the signifigance of rain to me. The soft pitter-patter sound that flurished throughout my house, and the dark clouds that encompassed the sky, only served as a reminder of what I lost. _Who_ I lost, to be exact.

Louis.

He hated the rain. He hated getting dretched and he hated being cold. But, my boy loved the rain when he was with me, because he met me in the pouring cold. He didn't mind the thundering above or the way his hair fell wetly in front  of his face. He didn't mind the bitter cold or the purple tinge to his lips. He didn't care about the way his shoulders shook or the way his teeth clattered. If anything, my boy embraced it when he was with me.

-

Dear Reader,

It rained today, and I thought to myself: "I really fucking miss him."

-

Louis' laugh was almost loud enough to silence the thundering sky. His smile was almost bright enough to out shine all of the stars in the galaxy. Louis' outstreched arms were strewn in tiny droplets of water. His head was tipped back and his tiny feet guided him in a circle. He spun around, his hair dangling wetly in clusters on his head.

He looked so beautiful, my boy was always beautiful.

"You're gonna catch a cold if you don't get back in here." I told him, my voice loud over the powerful wind and heavy rain. Louis' sharp eyes looked at me from where I stood in the doorway. The hoodie he had on was soaked and his bare feet were standing in a small puddle. He was wearing a pair of blue yoga shorts and a light grey hoodie, but it appeared a lot darker due to the rain.

"I don't wanna." He said, pouting and wiggling his tiny toes in the dirty water he was standing in.

"I'll make you a cuppa and I'll put the heat on. I've even got you a towel, and we can watch reruns of Adventure Time." I suggested, holding a Winnie-the-Pooh towel in my hands. It had a hood attached to it, which showcased Winnie's head and ears on it. Louis had picked it out.

He stopped pouting and slowly walked toward me, the rain sloshing beneath his feet. When he reached me, I opened my arms and wrapped the towel around him. He snuggled into the plush like material with a warm smile.

His lips were as purple as the day I had first laid eyes on him, and his hair was a wet disarray atop his head. I bent over and dropped a kiss on his sweet little head before leading him into the house.

"My feet are cold." He whined, seating himself at the kitchen table as I made us some tea.

"Dry off and I'll get you a pair of socks." I told him, setting the kettle on the stove and waiting for the water to boil.

"A pair of _your_ socks?" He asked, incredulous. I shook my head with a small smile and combed my fingers through his soaked hair.

"No. A pair of your socks." I clarified, "I'll go get them right now."

"Do you know where I keep my stuff at?" He questioned, leaning into my touch as I continued to play with his hair.

"Yeah. In a bag inside of my closet- a green alien thingy, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's an Invader Zim backpack."

"Okay." I hummed, releasing his hair and making my way towards my room.

-

"I got you a blue pair, is that okay?" I asked him, walking back into the kitchen with a pair of fluffy baby blue socks in my hand.

"Yeah. Those are fine." He said, taking the socks out of my hand just as the kettle whistled. I hummed, and then I grabbed two cups out of the cupboard and placed one in front of Louis, and the other across from him. Then, I grabbed the kettle by its handle and carefully filled our cups with the scalding hot water, placing a bag of Yorkshire tea in each.

"Yorkshire's my favorite." Louis told me, grabbing the hood of his towel and placing the little hat on his head. He gave me a toothy smile as he snuggled into the soft material. He looked so adorable, wrapped up in a Winnie-the-Pooh towel, and a little hat on his head with Winnie's yellow ears sticking up.

"It's the only tea I'll drink." I shrugged. Louis hummed in agreement and scooted out of his chair a little bit, then he leaned down and placed the blue socks onto his pale feet. He sighed in relief and wiggled his tiny toes with a satisfied smile gracing the corners of his slightly purple lips.

"Are you still cold? I turned the heat on when I got your socks." I asked him, concerned. He nodded his head and gave me a lopsided smile as he scooted himself back in.

"I'm not worried about it, I should probably just change into something warmer."

"Yeah, you're clothes are all wet and I'm sure that towel's not really helping much."

He was silent for a moment, just staring at his cuppa like it held all of his answers. I wasn't sure if he was contemplating changing his clothes, or if he just didn't want to change at all.

"Do you want me to pick you out something to wear, or..." I trailed off, but he didn't even flinch, let alone look up at me. "It's not a big deal yo-"

"Mark, my um-" He cleared his throat, "My step-dad, he uh, he told me some stuff... and it had me thinking-"

"About what?" I asked, my brows knitting and a frown gracing my lips.

"About us." He whispered, his sharp eyes finally looking up at me, "He said we're a bit close... he was asking me questions- I don't know, this is stupid." He huffed, slouching in his seat and throwing his head back, staring up at the ceiling.

"What'd he ask you?" I asked him, my voice wavering slightly. It was so odd for him to just spring something like that up on me, and it was slightly unnerving.

"He asked me if you've ever touched me and stuff, and if you ever say weird things and make me uncomfortable. It's stupid, Harry. Let's just ignore it."

"It's not stupid if it's on your mind," I said. My heart was racing; faster than a bullet. I didn't know what to think- how to feel. I didn't know how to form a proper thought.

"Okay, but I trust that you've never touched me. You're not some wierd _pedo_ or _pervert_." He laughed dryly, cringing as the words fell from his lips. The way the words rolled off of his tounge, like he was desperately trying to spit out poison that had just entered his system, hit me hard.

Everything I had ever done to the boy who had been sitting before me, crashed upon me. I was carrying the weight of my guilt upon my shoulders, and it was making it far to hard to breathe. My lungs grew tight and my breaths came out short, and it was scaring me because I couldn't hide the tremor in my bones or the panic that was filling my being.

"Wha- When he asked you those questions, what'd you say?" I choked out, trying to get my body to cooperate with me for once, but I was failing. He looked at me, his eyes searching my face, but my eyes refused to meet his; too ashamed.

"I told him you'd never done anything- Harry, are you okay?" He questioned, worried. I bit the inside of my cheek, my eyes fluttering closed as I tried to _fucking_ breathe so I could answer him.

"Har-"

"Do I make you uncomfortable? Like, ever?" I wheezed out, my jade eyes meeting his with a wave of confusion and guilt. I wondered if he could read me as easily as I could read him, because his eyes were wary as he stared at me. He swallowed hard, and slowly nodded his head.

-

Dear Reader,

What did I do wrong? Where did I mess up? I never meant to make him uncomfortable. That was never my intention.

I was destined to live an unhappy life, wasn't I?

I was born with an incurable disease, a fucked up desire, and on top of that, I fell in love with a twelve year old boy. The universe must really hate me, because I tried so hard to keep my urges at bay, because I wanted nothing more than to keep the friendship I shared with Louis, but I couldn't.

It started out so innocent, didn't it?

I think it did.

I had always had some type of malice intent when it came to Louis, and on occasion I acted on my urges, and I thought about fucking him more often than not, but I never wanted to make him uncomfortable.

I was destined to be unhappy, but I don't want to be unhappy anymore.

-

"It's the way you look at me." He said, "Some- Sometimes I think that you might have some type of crush on me, you know? But, you're literally twelve years older than me, and you've never given me a reason to believe you do." He murmered, twiddling his fingers and staring at me with this look that was so intense, this look that was pleading, _begging,_ for me to tell him that I didn't like him as anything more than a friend.

-

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to lie, but how the Hell was I supposed to tell him the truth? I wanted the world to swallow me whole and never spit me out. I wanted to disappear, maybe burry myself alive.

-

His eyes were sharp as he stared at me, but so soft and blue and beautiful. Louis was beautiful, bundled in nothing but a grey damp hoodie, tiny blue shorts and a fluffy pair of socks to match. He had a Winnie-the-Pooh towel wrapped around his shoulders and a little hat on his head.

He looked so uncomfortable as he sat there though, a trembling mess. He looked so lost in my presence, and it made me scared.

-

It made me so scared, because losing him was my worst fear.

Love.

It makes you do and say crazy things, and if you're reading this now Louis, I want you to know that I'm sorry.

I've been sorry ever since you left my life for good, and I'll be sorry until the day my soul is dragged to Hell.

-

"What am I supposed to say?" I breathed, my voice hoarse as a sob crawled its way up my throat. My eyes felt wet and my heart was aching. I'd reserved a spot for Louis inside of my heart, but as my love for him grew, so did the spot he filled. He was encompassing the entire circumference of my heart- he's the only thing worth living for. "I'm- I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable?" I tried, wincing as the words left my tight throat.

"Harry, I need- I need to ask you something." He said, staring at me with that pleading look still, and I just couldn't find it in myself to look away. "Do- Do you like me?"

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I blinked away the tears gathering in my eyes and gave him a dimpled smile, shooting for a nonchalant look, but giving off a terrified vibe as my hands shook against the table. "Of course," I choked out.

"Not like that, Har-"

" _Please_ ," I pleaded, my chest rising and falling rapidly and my breaths speeding up, "Don't do this. Not now, not ever." My hands shook where they were folded on the table and I slowly brought them to rest on my thighs. I dropped my head, my gaze falling to my lap and my hair obscuring  my face from his vision.

"It's just a question, Harry, and we both know the answer is no, so why are you freaking out?" He asked me, incredulous.

"How am I supposed to lie to you?" I muttered, hoping my whispered words would fall upon deaf ears.

"What?" He asked, and I lifted my head, my eyes falling on his shocked face.

" _How am I supposed to lie to you_?" I asked him, again, slowly rising from my seat and watching the way he flinched and cowered away from my form as I walked toward him, "Tell me what you want from me, Louis, and I'll give it to you."

"I wan- I want the truth. I'm so confused right now." He whispered, his eyes tracking every move I made, until I wasn't in his line of sight anymore- until, I was standing behind him.

"You love me, right Louis?" I asked him, slowly removing the hood from his head and carding my fingers through his hair. He shivered under my touch, and I tried not to make any noise as the tears gathered in my eyes slowly made their way down my face.

"You're my best friend, Harry. I love you, like, like a friend. We both do, right?"

"Not quite," I sniffled, shame invading my senses. I didn't know where to begin, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to stop lying to him, yet. I didn't know if I was ready to tell him the truth about- _about me_ , about who I was and still am.

-

I had been lying to him for so long, and I was done. I didn't want to lie to him anymore, I didn't want to keep him in the dark about my true feelings for him. It was so wrong, but he was so innocent and oblivious, he wouldn't have seen it coming if it had hit him right in the face.

-

"I was only seventeen, you know? That was, nearly six years ago, yeah?" I laughed bitterly, using one hand to wipe under my eyes. The guilt that was pressing on my chest was slowly dissipating as the words tumbled from my lips, "And, and I had the biggest crush on one of my teachers, he was like, twice my age." I laughed, trying not to sob as Louis turned his head and met my eyes, my hand falling from his hair.

"But I also had the biggest- Want? Desire? Urge? I don't know -to be with this _girl_... who was in middle school. She was your age, Louis. She was five years younger than me." I sobbed, my throat felt like it had just been slit and my head was pounding. I felt like that seventeen year old boy again, locked in his room and scared of what his thoughts were conjuring up, terrified of the things he seen when he closed his eyes.

" _Fuck_!" I hissed, pressing my palms to my eyes to try to stop the tears from falling. I felt so pathetic, and scared. "And- and it didn't stop there, fuck, _it didn't stop there_!" I grit out, "I'm twenty-fucking-four and I _shouldn't_ , but God dammit, I'm in love with you." I cried.

-

Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. What good did it do me to tell him anyways? I didn't think it could get much worse, you know? I thought that, that was the lowest I'd ever feel in my life, but I was wrong.

I was so fucking wrong! And, I'm such a horrible person- I don't deserve to live. To be honest, I'm not living, just barley breathing; stuggling to survive because I don't have a reason to anymore.

If I died today, I know many people would care, but I don't think Louis would. If I had the guts to approach him, I'd ask him to kill me himself- to end it all and to put me out of my misery. But, that'd make me a coward.

I have to live with the burden of my mistakes, just like he has to live with the depression of a victim.

-

His crystal blue eyes were staring up at me as I cried, as I fell apart in front of him. I heard his heart break, I felt his world crumble. Our entire relationship was a lie to him, because I hadn't been truthful. Every touch had been poisoned, drowned with the intent to harm him, because my thoughts were, and still are, vicious and deadly.

Something that I had kept burried deep within my thoughts, was something that he knew now. He knew, and it scared the shit out of me.

"Mark said that you stare at me like I'm an object. He thinks you're a child-molester, and I think- I think I agree."

"Lou-"

"You touch me a lot, too. You also let me wear your clothes, and I do that with all my friends, I thought it was normal for two friends to share clothes and to cuddle and stuff, but I was so oblivous, wasn't I?" He snapped, rising from his chair and standing before me. My back hit the counter, and I felt so small in his presence.

"Be- Because you don't want to be my friend, Harry, you wanna touch me and stuff? Right?" He asked me, his eyes still pleading for me to take it all back and tell him it was all a joke and that I'm not some creep who wants to get in his pants, but I didn't know how! I didn't know what to say, my throat was tight, my tongue was tied, my heart was breaking, and my thoughts were jumbled.

"I trusted you!" He growled, pushing my chest, "I played footie with you! I cooked with you! I met your family! I stayed over your house! I told you about my sister!" He kept hitting my chest, his voice growing louder and his tiny hands hitting me harder. I grabbed his wrists and pulled him into my chest, my arms engulfing his frail frame. He sobbed into my chest, and I felt my heart breaking even further, and I didn't think it could break anymore. My vision was blurry and my body was exhausted. I just wanted to sleep, that's all I wanted.

I didn't even need him to sleep in the same bed as me, I just needed him here. I just needed to know we were okay.

"So, what now? Are you gonna stay?" I asked him once our breathing had calmed and the silence that settled in the room was peaceful and serene.

"No. I want to go home." He murmered, his fists tightening where they were clenched at my hips; fisting my shirt in his tiny hands. My heart shattered, and I was hoping it was done breaking; that it wasn't strong enough to take another blow and inflict me with another wave of pain.

"Okay." I breathed out, releasing him from my hold and using my shirt to dry off my face. I ran my fingers through my hair and gave him a sad smile. He wiped under his eyes and then walked out of the room, probably to pack up his clothes. I walked into the foyer and slowly put on my shoes and a jacket, zipping it up and then grabbing my keys out of my back pocket.

Louis walked into the hallway with his Invader Zim bag slung over his shoulder and a pair of white vans on his small feet. His head was bowed and his tiny feet were shuffling where he stood. Another wave of pain washed over me, drenching me like the rain did to Louis. He looked so uncomfortable, and it was breaking my heart seeing him that way... because of me.

"You ready?" I croaked, and he slowly nodded his head, and with that, we were walking out the door. He kept his distance as we walked, and I couldn't find it in myself to dwell on it because I didn't have the energy to cry again. I didn't really mind the physical distance anyways, it was the emotional one that was weighing on my mind.

I opened the passenger door for him, and he climbed into the car. I wanted to say something, maybe apologize, but I couldn't. I just shut the door and walked over to the driver's side and climbed in.

When all of the doors were shut, I was brought back to the day that I had first met Louis. He let me drive him home, and we didn't talk much the entire ride to his house, but I enjoyed his company because it gave me good material to jerk-off to.

But, that night, when I was in the car with him, I didn't want to fuck him. I just wanted to kiss him and tell him how sorry I was. I just wanted him to know that I loved him, more than anything.

It was silent as I started the car and began driving. He didn't tell me the directions to his house, and I guess he must have figured that I already knew them because I had driven there before to drop him off far too many times to count. It was odd though, because even though we both knew that I had memorized his address, it was routine for him to give me directions anyways.

When I got closer to his house, my breathing started to speed up and my hands were gripping the leather of the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles were turning white. My jaw was clenched and my mind was settled, and it was settled on one thought only, and I was gonna do it.

I locked the doors when we pulled up to his house and he looked at me when his door wouldn't budge, " _Louis_." I breathed, resting my head against the steering wheel and looking at him as he started to panic.

"You're okay, I promise."

"I can't trust you right now, so you should know that you promising me something means shit to me right now." He bit out, releasing the door handle with a huff.

"I want you to know that I never thought this-" I waved between us, "Would go anywhere. Ever. But, I fell in love with you, and it wasn't planned, it- it just kinda happened." I sat up straight and stared at him, my eyes giving off the same intesity that made him uncomfortable so many times before.

He cowered under my heady gaze and made to look away, but I continued to speak, so he continued to stare, "And, and I want you to know that I love you so much. And I wish- I wish I was you're age, so none of this would feel so wrong. I wish I could just- If I could," I stammered, my breathing rapid and my nostrils flaring as the tension in the car grew. He was so beautiful, and he was always so soft underneath my fingertips. His breathing was insync with mine, and I craved to feel his chest pressed against mine as he panted into my mouth; his heart rate matching mine.

" _Harry_ ," He breathed, and I couldn't- I just _couldn't_.

I jumped over my seat, grabbed his shirt, and crashed my mouth against his. It was rough, but passionate. He reacted quickly, on pure instinct, and kissed me back. There were tears streaming down my face and sobs ripping from my throat and falling into his mouth. My hands shook where they were fisted in his shirt and my lips were quivering as I tried to keep the kiss going. Sobs were falling from my lips and into his awaiting mouth. He swallowed every sound with a whimper, his lips shaking against mine as I kissed his with a bruising force.

I could feel him everywhere. He was on my tongue, his taste dancing around the inside of my mouth. He was in my heart, my love for him rushing through my veins and his presence was the air that I breathed. He invaded all of my senses, until he owned every last one of them. He was my sixth sense, my strongest sense.

I opened his mouth with my tongue and dove in quickly, tasting him and feeling him all around me. My hands were everyhwere- his hips, his hair, his jaw, his chest, his arms, and finally, his thighs. His thick thighs that I gripped and pried apart so I could fit between them. The position was awkward, and the kiss was over fast, but fuck it, that's all I wanted. It was all I needed.

I could feel the burn of his lips against mine, and the press of his thighs against my hands. I could feel his skin beneath my nails, and his taste on my tongue.

"I love you." I whispered against his lips when the kiss was over, my body hovering above his. He looked at me, really looked at me, and I seen the emotion flooding through his cobalt eyes, but I ignored the fright staring back at me in them. "I love you, so much. Louis, _I'm in love with you._ " I continued, and when his bottom lip started to quiver and a single tear fell from his beautiful eyes, I pressed a chaste kiss against his lips and thumbed the tear away.

He was shaking and scared, but so was I.

I leaned up, sat myself back in my seat, stared out the window, unlocked the door, and waited for him to get out... but, he didn't. I looked over at him, and he was staring at me; his lips red and raw and his blue eyes red-rimmed and watery. I'll never forget the way he looked, so pale and tiny in the small space of my car, with the afterglow of my lips ghosting over him. He looked wrecked- claimed. He looked like he was completley and whole-heartedly owned, by me.

"How- how am I supposed to hate you? How could I ever hate you?" He asked me, "You say you love me, right?"

"I do."

"Okay. That's- That's okay." He muttered, turning away from me and looking out of the window and at his house. He brought a hand up and traced his lips, pinching the skin of his bottom lip. His breathing was still erratic, but he was so beautiful. God, guys, he was so beautiful.

"Are you gonna tell them?" I asked him.

"I don't know." He replied, hands shaking as he hopped out of the car, giving me one last look, and then running up his stairs and knocking on the front door. I waited until someone answered, and then I left.

-

When I got home, I didn't even bother getting out of my car. I just rested my head against the steering wheel, turned off the car, and cried, because I could still feel Louis' thighs under my hands and his mouth on mine. I could still hear his erractic breaths, and fuck! Everything hurt, and I didn't want to feel anything anymore. I wanted to be so sad, that everything was numb, but I wasn't.

It was that sadness that built a home inside your heart and nestled there, growing and festering like a virus. It was killing me from the inside out, and all I could feel was pain.

It felt like a nightmare, and I just wanted to wake up. That's all I wanted.

-

Today, it rained, and I fucking hate the rain.

I hate everything that reminds me of Louis because he is the one thing that I don't have that I want- No, need.

I need him. I need him because he is my other half. He is the blank to my blank.

He owns everything that I am, he has my body, my soul, and my heart.

It rained today, and I wanted nothing more than to feel Louis by my side; safe and sound.

I was destined to lead an unhappy life, and it's all I've ever known.

My life is pain. It's pure pain, and no pain killer is strong enough to soothe the ache in my heart.

 


	8. Roll Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I miss him even more, now. I miss late night movies that neither of us remember because we were to caught up in each other. I miss singing to the car radio as we drove, anywhere and everything that he wanted to go. I miss cuddling and playing footie at the park. I miss cooking with him at the restaurant. I miss just, being around him, and it hurts a little more everyday.
> 
> I'm so in love that it hurts in the worst way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter was posted on the thirteenth, but now it's edited and so much better and more enjoyable to read. Love you guys. Please enjoy xx
> 
> Same shit goes for every chapter. Guys read the tags and shit and be careful and safe.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction, and I do not believe any of the characters portrayed in this story are anything like the real life people they resemble. This is fan fiction.

"Every morning, I wake up and forget just for a second that it happened. But once my eyes open, it buries me like a landslide of sharp, sad rocks. Once my eyes open, I’m heavy, like there’s too much gravity on my heart." – Sarah Ockler

 -

Have you ever wanted to contact someone so bad, but you just- you can't? Even though the person that you want to talk to never told you not to call or text or visit them, but _you know_. You know there was a silent agreement that you wouldn't speak to them. That's how it feels for me everyday. It feels like I can't call him- or stop by his house -even though he never told me not to. It hurts so bad, and I wish it didn't. I wish everything was numb and the pain that I'm feeling so vividly would just... disappear.

Every time the phone rings, I beg that it's him. My hopes are set so high, and every time I answer the phone only to hear the voice of someone of no importance to me, I deflate. It's gotten so bad, that I just disconnected my phone.

I live a desolate life now, and there's no one to blame but myself.

I don't blame him for not calling, I mean, why would he?

Would you?

 -

In the morning, when I woke up, my forehead was resting on the steering wheel and my kneck was sore. For just a second, it felt like everything was okay. 

But then, reality crashed upon me and drenched me in bitter tasting regret. It felt like shards of glass had pierced every main artery in my body, ripping me open from the inside out. It felt like I was burning, and that's a feeling that so many people say they're familiar with. But, did they too, feel like the stick to the flame of a candle? I was burning; scorching hot blisters were leaving open wounds along my skin as I wilted away, like a sheet of paper set ablaze.

It felt like every milestone in my life, every second that I lived to breathe on this planet, was nothing but accumulated layers of disgust, disappointment, and desolation. I was lost in my own body, a stranger to my thoughts, and a man so in love that it set me on fire; a white hot flickering flame that burned it's brightest around Louis and it's hottest when he was gone. It burned so hot when he was gone that I wanted nothing more than to jump into a freezing cold bath, just to rid myself of the fire that he set within my heart.

I was burning, and I'm hoping that none of you can relate to that feeling. On social media I've seen people post about feeling as if they're burning, as if they're on fire, but you have never felt the pain that I have. Pain is different for everyone, but I was facing the highest level of pain- the pain that makes you wish you were dead!

I sat, my back pressed flat against my seat and my eyes staring straight ahead, and I was just burning. I was on fire, my insides boiling and bubbling, my skin set ablaze. My thoughts were burning like the steady flames of a bon-fire. I was chewing on shards of glass and stepping on hot coals, and all I wanted in that moment was for everything to just _go away_. I wanted the frenzy my body was enduring to disappear and for every inch of my body to be blanketed in nothing but his essence.

I was losing my mind, slowly but surely.

I tried to gather the thoughts closest to the surface, t least insane, and carefully made my way out of my car. Every step I took, and I every move I made, turned up the heat. My body was a vessel to pain, and it just resided and festered within me. Pain grew and grew, destroying my body and my mind.

I could still remember the press of his lips on mine, scorching my mouth and encasing me in a solid warmth. That warmth glowed a vibrant gold that made me feel rich- it made all of my worries fade away. His lips were warm and wet and so perfect- everything about him screamed: 'Mine'.

I was quick to unlock my door, and when it closed behind me, I blew up. I was tired of burning, and I wanted everything around me to be as destroyed as I felt. I flipped the coffee table over that was home to my key bowl, and then I tore down the coat rack and ripped two of my jackets in half. It was as if, my eyes were watching me set everything on fire that I touched. I watched the coffee table burn, and I watched every coat turn to ash. I stalked further into my house and just- set everything on fire until everything around me was burning.

I was a fire, burning hot and bright, and I was destroying everything in my path like a forest fire. I flipped over my coach, kicked my TV screen until there was a gaping hole in it. I punched a few holes into my kitchen walls, and then I crashed. I just, collapsed on my floor and wept. I cried and I wailed and I felt so broken.

I was just, begging for the pain to go away.

It didn't.

-

"You look like Death." Amanda said as I trudged into the diner, but I just ignored her. My mood was shot; a glass door that had been shot at with a machine gun until it was nothing but a pile of glass shards, pieces that I didn't have the energy to try and glue back together. My mood was so dead, that I couldn't even find the decency to smile at the customers that stopped by.

"Let me work up front, Harry." Amanda gave me an uneasy smile as my horrible attitude drove away the fifth customer of the day. I simply shrugged and let her take over as I made my way to the back and helped my co-workers cook the food.

When the clock struck ten and it was time for my shift to end and for Louis to stop by, I waited at the counter for him to show up. It was stupid, I know. I knew somewhere deep down that he wouldn't show up, and it hurt me on the deepest level, my heart started to burn. I was so close to tears, because I knew that if he didn't show up, then he was with his family to visit his sister. I clutched at my chest and tried to swallow the lump growing in my throat as I thought about how he must feel.

It hurt to imagine how broken his voice must have sounded when he told his family that he'd rather go to the hospital, than be babysat by me.

I was packing up all of my stuff and checking to make sure everything was clean before leaving, when Louis walked into the restaurant. It was late, around twelve in the morning when he came in, and the pain I had been in just- numbed?

"What're you doing _here_?" I found myself asking, my throat closing up on me on the last word. I cleared my throat and leaned over the counter.

"I- I was about to, um, go and visit my sister," He trailed off, slowly walking over to the counter and perching himself on one of the bar stools, "I just wanted to stop by and... see you."

My hands were shaking where they rested on the counter, and I- as nonchalantly as possible -brought them to my sides. "You don't have to go, Lou." I told him, my voice wavering, "You can stay here."

"With you?" He asked, his doe eyes rolling as his lips rose in a snarl. I almost flinched at his facial expression.

"Don't be like that," I mumbled, my head dropping, "Please."

"I just, like, needed to come here and remind myself why I was going to go and face one of my biggest fears. I didn't expect you to be here." Louis said, removing himself from the stool and turning to walk toward the door. My heart was racing as I lifted my head and stared at his retreating figure.

"Louis!" I called, and he craned his kneck to face me as he reached the door. 

"Yeah?"

"I-" I cut myself off. The words 'love you' on the tip of my tongue. "Good luck." I choked out, my head falling between my shoulders again, and my whole body shaking with the force of the words I had just spit out as he left the diner.

-

I was laying down, a field of green beneath me as I stared up at the blanket of blue above me. I could hear children's laughter all around me, but there was only one laugh that stood out among the others.

Louis was on the playground playing tag with a couple of his friends, he didn't even bother to glance at me.

The sun was warm against my exposed arms. The grass was slightly irritating; tickling my hair and reddening my skin.

-

I don't think I'm allergic to grass, but I'm sure it's irritating to everyone.

-

I was bored, counting the clouds and thinking about how simple my life was before I had met the blue-eyed beauty named Louis. If it had been any other normal day, a day in which my heart wasn't filled with love for a boy twelve years younger than me, I might have had a quick wank in my car to all of the kids that were playing in the park.

But, it wasn't a normal day, and my head wasn't encompassed with filthy images of children seducing me. Instead, my mind was running wild with thoughts of Louis- Louis' eyes, his smile, his laugh, his touch, his jokes and the games we'd play.

I missed him so much, even though he had been right there. He was within walking distance, touching distance, kissing distance., yet, he was so far.

-

 

I miss him even more, now. I miss late night movies that neither of us remember because we were to caught up in each other. I miss singing to the car radio as we drove, anywhere and everything that he wanted to go. I miss cuddling and playing footie at the park. I miss cooking with him at the restaurant. I miss just, being around him, and it hurts a little more everyday.

I'm so in love that it hurts in the worst way possible.

-

I sat up, sitting Indian Style. I stared out at the field before me, watching as kids played among the monkey bars and ran around the playground in big groups. I spotted Louis, his thick thighs in a pair of female shorts and a low V-kneck red shirt. His feet were clad in red and white Nikes, and his hair was a sweaty mop upon his head. His fringe fell in long, wet strands on his forehead as he panted, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between a blonde lad and a dark haired lad.

He quickly shot me a look. His enticing, enchanting, and absolutely beautiful, heart-stopping, gut-wrenching, breath-taking, eyes captured mine, for just a split second, before he was taking off.

His legs carried him across the field and to a tree where he called out a quick, but loud, "Base!"

The blonde haired boy and the caramel-skinned lad with the dark hair quickly raised their hands in defeat. The ghost of a smile made it's way to my lips, but it was gone before it could turn into anything more.

Louis' eyes lingered on me as he stalked away from the tree and towards the boys that were standing next to each other and conversing quietly, big smiles on their faces, their shirts drenched in sweat. They both were wearing basketball shorts and t-shirts with matching tennis shoes. I gave Louis a lopsided smile, and he only rolled his eyes at me before jogging toward his friends.

 -

I walked into my house, toed off my shoes; completely numb to the mess that my house had become. I trudged into my kitchen and quickly brewed up a pot of coffee. I released a heavy sigh, my heart heavy where it resided within my chest.

I had stayed at the park for another hour, watching Louis with a sad smile the entire time after he had rolled his eyes at me... as if I was annoying, or worse, _unwanted_. As if my presence was unwanted, and it hurt to think about- to accept. I finally decided to leave once he had proved my thoughts correct. He didn't bother to acknowledge my existence for the rest of my stay at the park, and the awful memory of him rolling his sharp eyes at me didn't help either.

I sat at the table, a hot cup of coffee in my hands, and a gaping hole in my heart.

My mind was running amuck, until it settled on one complete and wholesome thought. Louis obviously hadn't told his family anything, which meant that his family still trusted me.

 


	9. I'm Certain That I'm Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's the wind beneath my wings, and I need him and love him so much that it hurts.
> 
> Do you remember, reader, when I told you that my love for Louis could not be easily defined, that I loved him with a burning passion? Do you remember that, reader?
> 
> If not, let me refresh your memory by reminding you that my love for him has a name, and it is Forever.
> 
> Forever; long lasting and eternal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I RECCOMEND YOU LISTEN TO THE SONG Certain Things by James Arthur ONE REPEAT THROUGHOUT THIS WHOLE CHAPTER. PLEASE AND THANK YOU XX
> 
> link to song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8VSeQwVzMo
> 
> This chapter is um, very precious to me. I want to thank every reader, every person who commented, every kudo. I want to thank the silent readers, the people who haven't kudo'ed yet or commented. I just want to thank you all. I love you, guys, I love you, very much.
> 
> I appreciate you guys.
> 
> Please, reread the tags, you never know if I decided to add or take down a tag, and it's good to know what you can and can't handle. Don't force yourself to read this story guys. I love you, take care.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction, and the characters within this story do not portray the way the members of One Direction act in any way. This is all fan fiction.
> 
> Every thing in italics is a flashback/dream, okay? Okay.

"Some may never live, but the crazy never die." - Hunter S. Thompson

-

I was sipping on a glass of deep red wine. I had on a pair of tight black jeans and a white button-up. I was sitting on the arm of my couch, one of my CDs playing as I nursed from my alcoholic beverage. Elvis Presley's song Love Me, was blaring through my stereo system, and I hummed along to the lyrics.

My mind was starting to fuzz around the corners, and my body sagged and my bottom lip jutted out in a pout; I was hit with the memory of me and Louis dancing in my living room, and it made my gut twist in nostalgia.

I set my glass down on the coffee table in favor of drinking straight from the bottle instead.

-

I've never been a big fan of getting drunk because it makes me irrational. I always say things I shouldn't, and do things I'd never do. I hate the feeling of losing myself, losing who I am to the Devil's beverage.

I'm a reasonable man, I believe. A man with a dark secret? Yes, but I'm still very reasonable.

When I'm under the influence though, being reasonable isn't something that I am. I completely change. I allow my sinful thoughts to come to life, and I allow myself to give into temptation.

I hate drinking, but that day- that day I just couldn't seem to stop.

It started with one small cup, barely even a shot. Then it grew into one glass, and then two, and then three. After my fourth glass, I was beyond tipsy.

Tipsy enough to dance with a child, the way I had when I danced with Louis in my living room. I had been drinking that day as well, if you remember, and my mind was clouded. I had given into temptation and allowed myself to touch Louis repetitively. My hands were on him constantly when we were dancing, and I don't know how he let his mind believe that it was, in any way, platonic.

But, that night, that night I was drunk, nearing the danger zone when it comes to alcohol consumption, and I was going to make some very shitty decisions that I shouldn't be held accountable for. But, alas, I wasn't that drunk, as I remember exactly what had happened when I was sober again, which means I was sober enough to stop what I had been doing.

But, I didn't- I couldn't, and I'm afraid that you'll never understand what it feels like to absolutely not be able to do something. It's hard to make the right decisions, when the wrong one will make your wildest dreams come true

-

I had finished half of the bottle of wine, the bottle half empty. I wanted to polish it, to consume every ounce of alcohol within the glass bottle, but I decided against it because I was already way passed tipsy, and a little bit passed drunk.

I had turned off my stereo because it was giving me a headache, and I just slumped against my couch. My feet were resting on my coffee table, and my right hand was hanging over the couch rest, the damn there empty bottle of wine was in it. My eyes were drooping and my head was pounding, and I had a steady ache that pulsed in a sharp red-orange color in my heart. It reminded me of fire, and I was pretty sure I was on fire, but the alcohol helped to dull the pain.

I closed my eyes and dropped the bottle that was in my hands, on the floor. It clattered, and it reminded me of the sound that resignated through my ears when I had told Louis the truth. His heart broke, and it shattered like the bottle of wine that laid in broken shards on my floor.

With my eyes closed tightly, I reminisced about one of the days in which I was my happiest.

-

_Louis' eyes were bright, a vibrant impeccable shade of blue that stared at me with nothing but adoration. His stare boosted my ego so high, I almost could've sworn I was flying._

_His smile was flawless, pretty pink lips, sharp canines, and crinkly eyes. He was running across the field, kicking the ball back and forth, his feet carrying him swiftly toward me. I didn't even care about the game at this point, too caught up in his beauty._

_Louis is perfection, nothing but soft tan skin and bright blue eyes and wispy brown hair and thick delectable thighs._

_Before I knew it, I was running after him, full force. He squeaked, forgetting completely about the ball and running away from me with the loudest bout of laughter heard to man. His light and airy voice reached my ears, and slowly trickled down my spine, leaving a shiver in its wake._

_I chased him around in circles, until he doubled over in his laughter. I stopped right behind him while he knelt over, his hands on his knees, and quiet giggles escaping his mouth along with breathy pants._

_I pressed my hands into the center of his back, my palms splaying out onto his small back. His breathing started to even out, and when he went to stand up straight, I merely huffed out a laugh and draped myself over his body. My arms went to circle themselves around his waist, and my chin hooked over his shoulder. My long hair tickled the skin of his rosy cheeks, and his smile was warm as he let out a quiet chuckle and stared at the ground._

_"What're you doing?" He laughed, his arms hanging loosely in front of him._

_"Nothing." I hummed, pressing a quick kiss to the heated skin of his sweaty kneck._

_"You're heavy." He huffed._

_"I am?" I teased, pressing more of my weight onto his back so he was basically the only thing holding me up. He grunted under me, and I lessened the pressure I put on him and quickly stood up. He heeved out a breath and then stood up straight, cracking his back, and then turning around to face me._

_"Can you carry me?"_

_"Yeah." I smiled, bending down a bit and then hoisting him up by his thighs. His legs quickly wrapped around my waist and his arms gripped onto my shoulders. He tucked his face into my kneck with a yawn as I carried him back to the car._

_"You tired?"_

_"Mhm."_

_"We barely did anything today, though." I mumbled, setting him in the passenger seat and buckling him up. I hovered over him, waiting for his reply. When I didn't receive anything but a dopey smile, I shut his door and trekked over to the drivers side. I hopped into the car and put the key into the ignition after buckling myself in._

_Once we reached my house, I shut the car off, got out, and then I carried Louis into the house with minimal struggle. I set the sleeping boy down on the couch, and then I settled myself behind him. My arms went to wrap around his waist, and I buried my face in his kneck where I placed tender kisses._

_"Harry?" He whispered, and I stopped the sporadic kisses I was placing on his skin. I hummed into his kneck, and he turned around in my grip to face me._

_His eyes stared up at me, wonder and adoration, and a various number of other things, gleamed at me in them._

_"Thank you."_

_"For what?"_

_"For being my best friend." He mumbled tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. I cooed quietly, squeezing his hip and pressing a kiss to his forehead._

_"You're welcome."_

_-_

The images behind my eyes blurred, swirling in hues of blue, green, and yellow. Blooming and spreading, contracting and stilling, until the only thing I could see was white, and the only thing I could hear was the silence that encompassed the reality in which I lived _._

-

My body was numb, the type of numb that's numbingly painful.

I exited my living room in search of my phone, and once I found it, I quickly dialed Jay's number.

-

It was a drunken mistake, a decision I had made without actually thinking it through. My heart longed for him, and my hands ached with the need to touch him.

I'm afraid you'll never know what it feels like to be irrevocably in love with someone. My body and mind were consumed with only him; him and him only.

He's the wind beneath my wings, and I need him and love him so much that it hurts.

Do you remember, reader, when I told you that my love for Louis could not be easily defined, that I loved him with a burning passion? Do you remember that, reader?

If not, let me refresh your memory by reminding you that my love for him has a name, and it is Forever.

Forever; long lasting and eternal.

When I called Jay that night, the only thing on my mind was Louis and the Forever I longed for him to feel for me. I wanted him to want me, to need me, to seek comfort in my embrace and sanction in my kiss. I wanted him to feel the pain I felt everyday just thinking about him.

My mind was racing with images of his bright eyes, fierce and piercing deep into me as he spotted me across the field. He looked so vicious, unreachable. _Unattainable_.

He rolled his eyes at me as if I were trash, something as low as the dirt he trampled on, and fuck, it hurt like Hell.

And, in my drunken stupor, all I wanted was for him to be near me, so I could gift him with the Forever that I felt so deeply and devotedly for him.

-

I was standing in the foyer, the one that led to my room. I stumbled into my door and opened it. My hip rested on the doorframe as I waited for Johanna to pick up.

"Hello?" She said breathlessly, as if she had just been doing some work around the house.

"Yesss?" I slurred out, resting my head on the nearest wall to cool off the heat that was quickly pulling inside my gut. I was feeling feverish, my body was boiling hot and my stomach was twisting and turning in sharp three second intervals. I felt sick.

"Oh! Harry." She chirped, "Wha' do you need?" I could practically hear her smile through the phone.

I quickly looked around, having forget my surroundings. I was standing in my room. I quickly took a seat on my bed and answered Jay, "Could you, um, bring Louis down here for, like, two days? Uh, yeah, um, I'm planning a surprise, 'cause uh, school is starting soon. I jus' wanna let 'im have some fun down 'ere for a bit, yeah?" I stuttered out, my words sloppy.

"Um, yeah. I don't see why not." She said, her voice a little hesitant. I pouted, my gaze falling on my feet.

"It's just, we got into a bit of a spat, you know? So, like, don't tell him he's coming here, 'cause he won't wanna. And, he'll proba'ly put up a bit of a fight when he gets here, okay?" I chuckled, the urge to hang up the phone was stronger than ever in that moment, but I needed it. I needed to see him and be able to hold and touch him and kiss him. God! A tear fell from my jade eyes as I fiddled with my bed spread.

"But, like, I jus' wanna say sorr- _y_." My voice broke on the last word as a sob shook through my chest. I sniffled, hastily wiping at my face.

"Harry, are you- are you crying?" She asked me, shocked. I shook my head petulantly and sniffled again.

"No, I jus' stubbed my toe, Johanna." I told her.

"Ah! Um, okay. I'll bring Louis down there tomorrow because he has a friend over right now, okay?" She said, sounding concerned, but I just shook it off.

"Okay." I agreed, hanging up the phone. Once the line cut off, I threw my phone across the room and at my dresser. It shattered, but I just clutched at my chest and sobbed drunkenly.

I sobbed until I fell asleep, crying out Louis' name like it was my own personal mantra, my own little prayer.

-

When I had woken up, I had the world's biggest headache, but I was still drunk. I had only slept for an hour, and my mind was very disoriented. I groaned, rolling off of my bed and onto my floor. I groaned again, and then removed myself from my room.

I shuffled into my living room, my feet dragging against the floor as I sluggishly moved into the area. I almost stepped on a shard of glass as I went to sit on the sofa, so I picked up the biggest pieces from the busted bottle on the floor and threw them away.

I swept the rest of the shards of glass up with a broom and dustpan, and once my living room was clean, I headed towards my stereo system. I moved one of my speakers out of the way, and behind my speaker, was a small drawer that was built into the wall. I pulled open the drawer, and picked up the small bag that was within it.

Inside the bag, were various drugs. Ecstasy, weed, various pills that were in orange plastic bottles with white lids. Every bottle was labeled with a white piece of tape.

-

When I was seventeen, and had graduated from high school, one of my best friends, Liam Payne, threw this big ass party. At the party, I was given a parting gift, which was a bag full of drugs. I had never planned to take any of them, but I decided to keep them because they were a gift, and they were the only thing I had left to remind me of my rebellious teenage years.

I had always kept the bag hidden away, in a safe place, but that day... I planned to put one of the drugs within the small bag to use.

-

I opened the bag and pulled out all of the small plastic containers. I read each slip of tape placed on the bottles until I found what I was looking for, GHB.

It's a liquid based drug that I was given to in pill form. I was told it would fizzle, and turn into a liquid if mixed with a drink, but I could also take it dry if I wanted to since it was a pill.

It has no smell, and tastes slightly salty. It increases your sexual drive, and lowers inhibitions. It's a hallucinogen, which means it gets you pretty high. But, it also messes with your central nervous system; it makes your body sluggish, or completely rendered of movement period.

-

I tossed the bottle to my left, and then placed the bag back in the drawer. Once I had done that, I scooted my stereo back to where it belonged. I picked up the small bottle with the pills in it, and tucked it into my jean pocket, right next to my keys.

-

_"You're so sweet, Hazza." Louis cheered, his small hands clapping excitedly and his small frame jumping up and down._

_"It's really not a big deal, Louis." I said, bashful as I combed my fingers through his caramel tufts._

_"You bought me tickets to The Fray! What the- Oh my, Harry! You're really the best!" He exclaimed, words rushed and ecstatic as he hopped around and smiled so hard his blue eyes disappeared with the force of it._

_"You deserve it." I mumbled, setting my hands on his tiny shoulders and stilling him. He looked up at me, his mouth formed in a small 'o' shape, and his eyebrows raised as he peered at me beneath his fringe and long lashes._

_"I'm happy you bought me two tickets, because there is no way I'm not taking you with me." He told me, and I gave him a dashing smile, charming and prince-like, if I do say so myself._

_"Yeah?" I gushed, cupping his cheeks and staring at his soft pink pink lips and bright bright eyes._

_"Yeah." He breathed, and the urge to kiss him was so strong, I couldn't help but press kisses all over his delicate face. Kissing his tiny nose, and rosy cheeks, and everywhere but the place in which my lips craved to claim the most._

-

I awoke with a start, my breathing erratic as I bolted up from where I had been laying down on the sofa. I palmed my sleep filled eyes, and stretched my taunt muscles.

I had fallen asleep shortly after tucking the pill bottle into my pocket, but I didn't think I would have slept for as long as I did.

The remnants of my dream curled around me like a warm blanket, coddling me close and heating me up from the inside out. My heart, which had been on a steady burner since Louis left me, seemed to cool and calm. My body released a shiver, and I hurried to check what time it was on my phone, only to remember that I had shattered it when I was drunk.

-

I should have felt some sort of guilt for having called Louis' mother and telling her to bring Louis to my house, but there was none. My conscience was guilt free, and the container that had been in my pocket didn't sway me in any way.

I was going to go through with my plan, and I plotted to handle the consequences of my actions later.

I was selfish, greedy, and broken-hearted.

Love can make a man crazy, and I was so far gone that I couldn't seem to recall ever being on the surface- couldn't seem to recall ever being sane.

-

I trudged out of the living room and into the hallway, where I twalked into my kitchen and checked the time on my microwave.

It was eight in the morning, which meant that Louis would be over in a few hours.

I quickly left my kitchen in favor of having a quick shower, shaving my face, brushing my teeth, and dressing in a blue button-up shirt, only buttoning three of the buttons, and then throwing on a pair of black skinny jeans and white socks. I brushed my hair out quickly while it was still wet, and then left it to dry.

I brewed myself a quick cup of coffee, and then I moved into my living room, where I turned on my stereo and plotted what I was going to do with Louis when he showed up.

I knew I was going to drug him, but there was always the possibility that he'd still be able to move. But, I also knew that I had a vast supply of rope, wire, and long strips of fabric in my basement that could be used to tie him down.

With that thought, I quickly set my coffee mug down on the coffee table, and left the room. I stumbled down the steps of my basement in my haste to get some fabric that I could use to tie Louis to my bed posts with.

I sifted through a couple boxes in my basement, coming up empty handed. I placed my hands on my hips, my green eyes looking over the small room that was my basement. I had a few boxes full of useless shit, and a storage closet on the left of the staircase. I made my way to it, and quickly pried open the old rusty doors.

Once the doors were open, I quickly spotted the red satin-like fabric that was in a small box on the middle shelf. It was on a tape roller, the fabric being a good three inches thick and twenty-four feet in length.

I grabbed the tape roller that contained the fabric, and left the basement. I rushed into my kitchen, grabbed a pair of scissors from one of my many drawers, and then got to work on cutting the fabric. I cut the red material into four strips. They were each long enough to use one end of the fabric to knit one of Louis’ limbs with, and then tie the other end to one of my posts.

I set the four pieces of material on my bed, and then picked up my discarded and broken phone from where it rested on the floor beside my dresser. I sighed in frustration as I stared at the broken Android and then, I threw it again. It crashed into a wall, and I pinched the bridge of my nose.

There was no way for me to know when Louis was going to be coming over, because my phone was broken, and it frustrated me. My speakers were blaring some song by James Arthur about adoring someone, and I quickly left my bedroom in favor of the coffee that was quickly cooling in my living room.

Just as I was about to sit down, I heard a knock over the loudness of my speakers. I sighed again, clapping my hands once, and then I made my way to the door.

I opened the door in obvious annoyance, running my fingers through my hair out of habit.

I didn't bother to think about who could have been at my door, and I also didn't bother to look through my peephole, because when I opened my door... Louis was standing there.

 


	10. It Only Gets Much Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can't let you go. I can't let you leave me." My hands fisted the sides of his hoodie, my cries becoming more insistent, "I love you, Louis please! I'm begging you, right now, right here! Please! Please! Please stay. Don't leave me." I pleaded, hiccuping into his shoulder and trying to regulate my breathing.
> 
> "Haven't you already asked for enough? What more could you want from me if I stay!"
> 
> "For you to love me, like I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Update, I know haha. School's starting soon for me, un seven days, so don't expect fast updates. This story is also coming close to an end, haha. I wanna end it at twenty, but guys, tbh, it'll probably be over by chapter fifteen. Sorry.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. xx
> 
> IM PUTTING A WARNING HERE NOW! I'VE TOLD YOU ALL TO READ THE TAGS IN EVERY CAHPTER, BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES A RAPE SCENE.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, and the characters within this story act nothing like the boys of 1D, and the only resemblance is their appearances. 
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes. Please, enjoy xx.

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings." - Anais Nin

-

Life.

Sorrow.

Time.

Love.

Life. Some say life is repetitive, a constant loop of trial and error. Some say life has no end and is eternal, that the soul travels to a place where it will either spend an eternity in peace or pain. Some say life begins just as it ends, simply and scientifically; that there is no such thing as a spirit but only a vessel. We live, and we die.

Sorrow; is it pain, is it sadness, is it grief? Shall we mourn the sunrise or the sunset, to which to do we wallow in our pity selflessly? What is sorrow? If you asked me, I'd tell you that I don't know.

Time. The concept of time is endless, infinite, it has no end. It continues just as it started, or does it? Maybe there's more to a clock and a calendar than meets the eye.

Love. Some people say that love hurts, it's an emotion that leaves the heart in pieces, that leaves you crippled. You'll forget who you are after love destroys you, and you'll forever be searching and pretending-- grasping onto the shredded shards of you're bleeding heart in hopes that you'll find who you are among the pieces, instead of picking up broken bits of the person you once loved.

Love is always unrequited, that's how I see it, because that's what I experienced. Love is not balanced. One person in a relationship may be over the moon, ecstatic, and openly in love, while the other may feel something close to it, but not quite.

I do not believe that love is an emotion that can be shared between two people equally, if at all. It will always be unbalanced.

Love is unrequited, unabashed, unashamed, and ends in nothing but pain. Pain that either hurts so good, or pain that hurts so bad.

-

Louis stood at my doorstep, his arms crossed insecurely over his chest and his head bowed. His caramel fringe fell in long, soft waves and evaded me from seeing his beautiful face.

He cleared his throat after a moment, and I shuffled out of the doorway so he could come in. He had his Invader Zim bag slung over his shoulder, and his small feet were clad in a pair of white vans. I closed the door and locked it behind him. He shuffled his small feet as he stood in the hallway, one of his hands gripping the sling of his bag, and the other fumbling with the hem of his shirt. His head was still down when I slowly made my way toward him, only for him to take a step back.

" _Louis_ ," I breathed, my thoughts clouded, like always, and my hands aching to _touch_.

Every time I blinked my eyes, I could feel him nearly under me in the front seat of my car. My wet tongue in his even wetter mouth, and his soft skin beneath my greedy hands.

"Yeah?" He questioned, chancing a look up at me, his eyes peering up at me through his lashes.

"You still didn't tell them." I mumbled, my brows knitted and my eyes squinted as I stared at him. He shuffled again, flicking his fringe out of his face and staring at me, his posture more confident.

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

"Be- because, I don't want you to get in trouble." He whispered, his shoulders sagging and his arms falling limply at his sides. His bag shifted, one strap falling off of his shoulder, but he didn't seem to care.

"How am I supposed to feel about that?" My feet carried me closer to him, moving faster than his little legs could. He kept backing away from me, until his back hit a wall. I crowded him in, my silhouette towering over his, and one of my hands gripped his shoulder. My nails bit into his skin through his shirt. He winced, but didn't do anything to remove me from his proximity.

"Happy? Relieved? I don't know."

"I don't feel either of those." I huffed out, shoveling his shoulder into the wall so he was properly pinned.

"How do you feel then?"

"I feel- I feel a lot of things. I feel confused, mostly. Because any normal kid would have turned me in by now, but not you. Not you, because you like me, right?" The right corner of my lip quirked up in a smirk. I was crazy at this point, a wild type of animosity was flaring up deep within me.

He shook his head, his fluffy hair flopping upon his head from side-to-side, "Can you please let go of me?" He asked me, his voice tense and his annoyance was clear when he spoke.

"Why?" I huffed, releasing his shoulder and throwing my hands up in the air.

"Thanks," He grimaced, patting my hip as he scooted along the wall and away from me. I stomped my foot and quickly followed him out of the foyer. He walked into the kitchen, and I was hot on his tail.

"Why the fuck can't I touch your shoulder?"

"You weren't just touching my shoulder! You pinned me against the wall!" He screamed, turning around and facing me, his nostrils flaring and his face growing red.

"You need to calm down, Lou-"

" _No_!" He spat, "You don't get to tell me shit-"

"Watch your mouth!"

"Shut the fuck up when I'm talking!" He snapped, slapping his palm against the kitchen counter.

"Louis." I grit out, my hands shaking at my sides.

" _No_ ," He breathed, "You don't get to tell me anything after you forced yourself on me in your car. You don't have the right to touch me, to talk to me, and I really would appreciate it if you didn't look at me either. You don't have that right anymore, Harry."

The words stung, cutting straight through me like a knife. My eyes softened, as did his. He huffed out a heavy breath, and then tore his gaze away from me.

"You don't have the right to even think about me, not after you lied to me, not after you kissed me, and especially not after you forced me to stay the night here." 

"Louis, please. I-"

"What, Harry?" He spat, "You love me? You need me? You can't live without me? Do you like, ever think before you speak? Do you _realise_ how gross you sound when you say shit like that to me?"

I didn't like where things were headed, I didn't want to argue with him-- I never meant to hurt him, to be the cause of his anger. "It's not like that, Louis. Love is equal, it knows no boundaries, it-"

"That's bullshit, Harry, because, to be quite honest, you scare the living shit out of me." Louis laughed bitterly, his eyes a fire that burned a bright blue. His gaze set me ablaze, lighting me up and scorching me. Sizzling and popping as if I were nothing but oil in a hot pan.

" _I just want to go home_." He sighed out after a couple moments of silence, and my gut twisted in a wicked way. I felt sick.

-

When Louis said that he wanted to leave, my thoughts grew dark. I knew what I needed to do in order for him to stay, and I didn't feel any remorse for the actions that I was going to commit.

-

The bottle in my pocket seemed to be burning a hole in the denim of my jeans. I was suddenly very aware of what the plan originally was for when Louis arrived, and I fully intended to go through with it; I'd do anything to make him stay, to make him mine.

Sanity was a concept that had long since been lost on me.

"How about, I turn on the stereo and we drink some tea?" I suggested, already heading toward the cabinet that held the tea. Louis didn't respond, and I took that as a silent yes.

"I've got Yorkshire, since it's your favorite, but I'm probably just gonna drink some Lipton." I told him, not even caring that I didn't get an answer. I grabbed one Yorkshire tea bag, and a Lipton one, and then I placed each in a cup of hot water. Once I was done, I started to hear quiet sniffles.

I turned around instantly, only to see Louis huddled into himself on the floor, his hands covering his face as his shoulders shook. His sobs were muffled, but I could hear the sniffles he was emitting.

"Louis," I breathed, rushing to the crying boy and quickly sitting on my knees at his side. I pulled him into my chest with little complaint, and he relaxed almost instantly into my embrace.

I breathed in his scent, and pressed delicate kisses into his hair as he cried, mumbling comforting words into his soft skin.

"What's wrong, Lou?"

"I- I just wanna go h-home." He stuttered through his sobs, his voice scratchy. He removed his hands from his face, and in turn, buried his face into my chest. His body maneuvered its way into my lap, and I fell onto my calves and rested back on my feet. His thighs bracketed mine, and his hands fisted my shoulders, pulling at the skin there through my shirt.

"You- I can't let you do that, Louis. I can't lose you." I murmured, my words slightly muffled as I buried my face in the skin of his kneck. His breathing calmed slowly, and he nodded against my chest, nails still clawing at my shoulders absentmindedly.

" _Please_ , Harry." He wheezed out, and my heart nearly ripped, shredding straight down the middle as he begged for me to let him leave- to let him leave me.

" _Please, Harry, please_!" He pleaded, and the bottle in my pocket called my name as well, a soft and gentle caress like the wind, airy and trusting.

"No." I grunted, removing him from my lap. I got up and went straight to the cups of tea. Each cup had a tea bag in it, and they were done when I reached them. I pulled the bags out and threw them away.

I couldn't feel Louis' gaze on me, so I decided to pull the orange pill bottle from my pocket, jingling my keys accidently, and then I opened the container. The white pills stared at me, quietly pleading for me to pop one of them into Louis' drink.

I've always been a weak man, a man who can't even trust himself, let alone trust himself with a kid.

I dropped one of the pills into the Yorkshire tea and casually waited for it to fizzle and disperse. After that, I put some milk and a lot of sugar into Louis' tea to dumb-down the salty taste of GHB. Then, with a barely there smirk, I grabbed our cups and walked over to him.

He was sat on the floor still, head tossed back onto one of the bottom cabinets. His eyes were red rimmed and still glossy, but he smiled and made grabby hands for me when he seen I had tea.

I smiled at him, handing him his mug, and then I sat down as well, right in front of him. He brought the cup up to his lips, smiling around the brim of it, and then he took a sip. I smiled at him, my dimples showing as I drank from my cup, as well.

I made sure to keep the conversation light and steady as we drank, looking for any signs that the drug was working. When his speech started to slur, and the things he said started to make less sense, I knew the pill was starting to kick in. His body would twitch oddly every now and then, and his hand started to shake around his cup, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I feel like, you never listen, to me. I tell you things, but I feel like you don't hear me. M-maybe you like, like, to like, stare at m-me? You don't listen to me, you just stare at me," He slurred, his eyes drooping, and his head lolling from side-to-side where it rested on the cabinet.

"I listen to you, there isn't a thing that I don't know about you."

"Whe-when's my birthday?"

"December twenty-fourth." I replied, finishing my cup of tea and reaching over Louis to place it on the counter. He looked up at me, bringing his unoccupied hand up to my chest and fiddling with one of my buttons, "Favorite color?"

"Dark red."

"Favorite animal?"

"Dog."

"Favorite show?"

"Adventure Time."

"Who's my best friend?"

I hesitated, before shrugging and then saying, "Me."

His doe eyes seemed to brighten up at that in a way, but he had a small pout on his lips. He set his cup down on the floor and then started to rub at his temples.

"You okay?" I asked him, even though I knew the answer already. His moves were sluggish as he rubbed at his head and then went back to fiddling with my shirt. He didn't show any signs of stopping, but I was growing tired of just leaning over him. I grabbed his hand and removed it from my button-up and sat back on my heels.

"Tired." He rasped out, his eyes falling shut. I simply nodded, hoisting him up and carrying him bridal style to my bedroom. I set him down on the bed slowly, and his eyes fluttered open. He stared up at me as I leaned over him. I gave him a tight smile, and he tried to smile back, but failed.

His eyes took longer to open every time he blinked, his body slowing down and his face going pale. The color slowly draining from his golden skin. His lips turned a soft purple, and his fingers twitched every so often, as if he wanted to move his arm. His chest rose and fell quickly, and his eyes stared up at me in panic when he realized he couldn't move his hand.

A sweat broke out on his forehead, and his kneck started to flush, and I knew his skin was probably a nice pink shade underneath his shirt. "Ha-Harry?" His voice cut the serene silence, broken and frantic.

"Can you move your arms for me, Louis?" I asked him, feigning concern as I combed my fingers through his sweaty hair.

He fingers twitched again, and his right leg jolted as he tried to get his limbs to move, his breathing picked up, harsh breaths escaping his nose as he struggled to move his body. A whine escaped his sore throat, and his eyes quickly filled up with tears when he realized he couldn't move.

"You're okay, Louis. _Hey_! You're okay." I reassured him, tilting his head so he could look at me. His sharp eyes stared into mine, clouded and panicked. I gave him a small smile, before climbing onto the bed. I made sure his eyes stayed on me as I straddled his waist, resting most of my weight on my knees. I used one hand to play in his hair, lightly tugging and combing through the sweaty strands as I used the other hand to cup his kneck, my thumb resting on his jaw as I tilted his head up.

" _Please_!" He croaked, his stomach muscles jumping and his fingers still twitching.

I ignored him.

I moved my hands to his chest, thumbing over his nipples and feeling how hard they were under his shirt. I smirked, gripping the sides of it and slowly dragging it up his torso. His eyes glazed over, head lolling to the left as soft pants escaped his mouth.

When his shirt was pulled up high enough to expose his stomach, I lightly pinched at the exposed skin of his hips and teased my thumb lightly over his navel, my thumb barely touching the sparse hair at the waistband of his jeans. His muscles clenched, jumping and contracting as I brushed my thumb softly over his lower abdomen.

"St-stop." He mumbled, face flushing slightly. His lips turned a deep pink color and his eyes glassed over. I moved my right hand up his body and under his shirt, giving his nipple a tug. His whole body convulsed, his mouth falling open, and a breathy whimper fell from his lips.

I was quick to tear his shirt after that, to lazy to actually sit him up and take it off of him. The shirt fell onto either side of his frame, ripped straight down the middle. I threw his bag onto the floor after. His chest was red, flushed, and his nipples were hard. His body looked heavenly, and I wanted nothing more than to worship it.

I raked my hands up his sides, his stomach, his hips, his chest, and his nipples. I tugged and tweaked at every expanse of his revealed torso. He turned his head, and looked up at me, his vacuous eyes staring at me. They were bright, vibrant, but so _so_ empty.

I quickly shuffled down his body, ignoring the vacant look in his eyes. I gave him a wet, tender kiss on his chest, before slowly pulling his underwear and jeans off of his legs. I watched hungrily as his tan skin was slowly uncovered; his sharp hip bones jutting out, the light amount of hair that dusted his pelvic area, and his slowly hardening prick.

His thighs were delicious, too. Thick and tan and all mine. I threw his pants elsewhere, and quickly pried his legs open, trailing my hands along the inside of his thigh. A broken sound fell from his lips, almost a cry, but I refused to look up at him. I was far too busy, staring at the soft skin of his inner thighs. I splayed my hands out on his hips, holding his hipbones tightly, my nails biting into the skin, and then I placed my mouth on him. I sucked a deep bruise into the skin of his left inner thigh, my lips sucking and my teeth nipping at the tan flesh there. I placed wet, open mouthed kisses all over his thighs, leaving red marks on the inside of his thighs as I did so.

"Don- _don't_!" Louis sniveled, tears starting to roll down his rosy cheeks. I tried not to let it get to me, and instead worked on making him hard. I continued kissing his inner thighs, making my way higher and higher up the vast expanse of skin. I kissed the sensitive skin where his thigh met his pelvis, and watched with hooded eyes as his cock gave an interested twitch. I sank my teeth into the responsive skin, nipping at the flesh there and kissing and sucking wetly.

I placed my mouth on the base of his erection, poking my tongue out to drag it up the thick vein on the underside of his cock. His hips jostled in my grip, and I dug my nails into his skin even deeper as a warning, before licking at the wet head of his penis.

I took my right hand off of his hip, and moved it to grip him. He was warm in my palm, the thick vein on the underside of his balant arousal was pulsing against my hand. I teased my tongue in his slit, dipping the tip into it and licking around the wet head of his prick.

I gave his tip one filthy wet kiss, before letting his erection fall from my hand and slap against his fevered skin.

"Ha-Harry!" He sobbed, a proper mess when I looked back up at him. His eyes weren't empty anymore, they were lust blown, but scared as well. His face was wet with tears, and his lips were a deep red, and his hair was a caramel disarray.

With the drug still in his system, I knew it'd be easy to distract him. If only for a moment.

"Your lips." I told him, and he frowned at me, "They’re dark red. 'S your favorite color."

He nodded his head, a smile gracing the corners of his lips, "Yeah?" He breathed, licking his lips.

"Yeah, can I kiss 'em?" I asked him, and he slowly nodded his head. With his inhibitions lowered, he was willing to do things he usually wouldn't do when sober. I brought my lips to his, prying his mouth open with my tongue right away and delving in. He panted harshly into my mouth, brushing his tongue against mine. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, and frantically searched for his wet cock. Once I found it, I gripped him tightly, and stroked him quickly. My hand moved harshly along his shaft, twisting and thumbing at the head to collect the extreme amounts of precum he was releasing to make the glide easier.

He moaned into my mouth, whimpering and whining as I jerked him. I released his lips with a pop, placing my lips on his kneck and biting at his shoulder as I fisted him.

"Wanna- Wanna tou-touch you!" He cried, and I removed my hand from his wet dick, and gripped his right wrist. I placed his hand under my shirt and on my chest. His fingers twitched, curling around my left peck. His nails scraped at the skin of my chest, and he made a soft, content, sound.

I waited a moment, before dropping his hand and climbing off of the bed, and when I left his eyesight, he seemed to sober up.

I took one of his wrists in my hand; his arm twitched once, twice, and then went still. I kissed the inside of his wrist, and then I grabbed one of the red strips of fabric on my bed, and quickly tied his left hand to my upper left bedpost.

"What're you doing, Hazza?" He slurred out, his voice shot and strained. His eyes slowly blinked, trying to clear his vision as it started to blur.

I didn't answer him, I mean, how could I? What was I supposed to say? So, I just grabbed his left ankle, and tied it to my lower left bedpost. I checked to make sure both of the restraints were tight enough, and once I knew they were, I went over to the right side of my bed. I repeated the same actions as I did with his left wrist and ankle, and then I climbed back onto the matress, grabbed one of my pillows, and placed into under Louis' hips.

"Hey, hey," Louis whined, and I hummed, looking at him, "Can you untie me?"

"No," I shook my head, and he pouted.

"Why?" He asked me, his fingers twitching.

"Because..." I trailed off, falling in between his spread legs and taking one of his nipples between my teeth, "I wanna touch you some more."

"No! N-No! _No, no no no!_ " He repeated, his fingers twitching excessively and his legs jolting repeatedly. He kept twitching, his body convulsing as I teased the hardened nubs on his chest.

Finally, he kicked his foot out, the bed post jostling but, his leg remained restrained. He had tears steadily streaming out of his blue eyes, he looked so drained. So helpless, my precious boy.

"Harry! _'Arry_!" He sobbed, blinking up at me and I watched as the brightness died in his eyes. I watched as the joy- the innocence and childlike energy -died before my eyes. " _Hazz_..." He wheezed, choked off and strained, as if I had my hands wrapped around his throat. " _Hazza, please_." He cried.

I pressed a feather light kiss to his shoulder, and he screamed, though no sound came out. His face contorted as if I burned him. "I need this." I told him, pressing another kiss to his other shoulder. "I hope you'll find it," I paused to press an open-mouthed kiss to his kneck, "In yourself to forgive me."

"I can- I can't!" He wheezed out, "Stop. _Stop it_! Don-don't!" He cried as I sucked a love-bite into his searing hot skin. It burned beneath my lips, and I felt as if I were the source that was draining the brightness out of the eyes that I loved so dearly. It nearly made me stop, but I was already so close. I couldn't- I refused -to stop.

I ignored his cries as I took off my shirt and fumbled with my belt buckle, once it was off, I was left in nothing but my boxer briefs.

"Louis?" I had cut through his cries like a knife, and I watched as his eyes slowly flickered over to me. His mind was still hazy and slow due to the drug but, he was slowly sobering, and I really should have checked to see how long only one pill lasted. He tried to close his legs, but he was spread open for me, all for me. "You'll hurt your ankles, baby." I whispered, soothing the sore skin of his left ankle with my fingers.

"Hazzy? I- I'm sorry, wha-whatever I did I'm-" He broke off into a garbled cry as I pressed a hot kiss to his navel, sucking and nipping at the tan skin there. I pressed bruises into his delicate skin with my hands on his hips, and I kissed angry red marks into his untouched flesh.

I kissed his chest lightly, my lips barely grazing the skin in the middle of his chest, where his rib cage caved. I took his right nipple between my lips as my hand grabbed for his cock. I sucked until the tender nub was swollen and red, and then I moved onto the other one, stroking his fully hard cock lazily. He fought back every moan in favor for a cry, he bit back every whimper in turn for a tear.

My beautiful boy, hot and hard underneath me. My angelic cherub, soft and incoherent before me.

" _'Arry_..." He whispered, eyes fluttering and his lashes casting a dark shadow that hid his pretty eyes from me. I hummed in acknowledgement, my thumb stroking the wet tip of his prick. " _Why_?"

-

One word. It felt like my whole world had just crumbled. He had whispered that word, and I fought not to apologize and beg him for forgiveness. I fought myself, because I was gonna stop, but I needed this. I needed him.

-

"Some people mess up, and then some people, are born messed up. I was born messed up, sweetie, and I need you right now. I need this." I told him, wiping at the tears under his eyes even though they came right back.

"Why me? Please, just stop. I promise I won't tell anyone." He begged, sobbing and thrashing around, but his movements were slow and he grew tired quickly.

"I'm sorry." I whispered in reply, kissing his temple and then proceeding to undress myself fully. I maintained eye contact with him as I quickly pulled my underwear off and revealed my aching cock.

" _Baby_ ," I breathed, kissing his collarbone and sucking a bruise into the skin there. "I'm so hard for you. God, I can't get enough of you. I always wanna be close to you- I'm never close enough."

"Please, stop." He choked out, his voice hoarse, "You're _hur-hurting_ me."

-

These words affected me in indescribable ways. I never wanted to hurt him, but, I lost all of my control that night.

-

" _I'm sorry_." I said again, kissing the words into his skin. I reached over him and surfed through my nightstand for the small bottle I kept in there.

"I love you so much, Louis." I had said, squirting a suitable amount of lube onto my palm and fingers. I gripped his half-hard cock in my hand and used my lube covered one to toy with his puckered hole. His entrance fluttered against my slick thumb, whether he admits it or not, his body was so responsive to my touch- so greedy.

I pressed on his hole lightly, the pad of my thumb breaching him. He let out a high keening noise and thrusted his hips into my fist- whether he did it consciously or not, I'll never know. Besides, I wouldn't hold it against him.

" _Baby_ ," I groaned as I slipped a slick finger into his tight heat, not stopping until I was knuckle deep. He dug his heels into the mattress, and I sped my hand up on his small length- paying close attention to the head. A choked sob fell passed his lips, accompanied by a string of loud, high pitched moans.

"There you go." I encouraged, slipping another finger into him and crooking them just right. His eyes squeezed shut, and with everything he had in him, he screamed. It wasn't very loud, but it was pained. I dipped my thumb into the slit of his cock and fucked sporadically into his sweet spot with two slick fingers. His body shook and his cock twitched, and his hips thrusted uncoordinatedly- not knowing whether to fuck down onto my fingers, or up into my fist. I added another finger, going straight for his prostate with all three of them. I fucked into his hole with my fingers, stretching him open for me.

"Hazz!" He moaned, "H-Harry." He keened as he came into my fist.

I pulled my fingers out quickly, ignoring his cries as I used the rest of the lube on my hand to slick up my cock. I moaned at the contact and pumped and tugged at my hard length, spreading the substance around thoroughly before pressing the thick crown of my penis to his entrance.

He screamed silently. He sobbed my name. He begged for me to stop.

And I pretended I didn't hear his cries as I breached him.

"Sto- _Ah! Out! Out, out, out_! I- _Hurts_!" He babbled, words jumbled and incoherent. I kissed his tears away, peppering kisses all over him- anywhere I could reach. I kissed his collarbones, his shoulders, his kneck, his jaw, his cheeks, his forehead, his temple, his nose- and just as I bottomed out -I kissed his lips.

It was hot. He was hot. His lips were like a fire, and I was the match. His lips were so soft, hesitant and quivering. I claimed his mouth. I bit and nipped at his bottom lip and traced over it with my tongue. I moved our lips languidly, and he just cried. He cried and whimpered and moaned into my mouth, and I swallowed every sound.

He was so hot. Skin sticky with sweat and clinging to mine. His body was marked in an array of bruises and teeth marks. His jaw and his whole upper body was littered in love-bites. His cock was a pretty pink at the tip and so wet as it rubbed against my abdomen. His slick hole clenched and unclenched around the thick girth of my shaft, and I had to will myself not to move until I knew he was ready.

It still surprises me how his tiny little body was able to take me, all of me.

His eyes looked up at me, beautiful blues unfocused. I slid my arms underneath him and brought my hands up to his shoulders, digging into his skin and holding onto him. I pulled out until just the tip of my arousal was caught on the rim of his entrance, and then I thrusted up into him and brought his body down on my hips- meeting me as I invaded him in one, swift motion. His mouth parted, his nails dug into the palms of his hands, his heels dug into the mattress, his back arched, and his eyes widened.

"You're so beautiful. My beautiful boy." I grunted, snapping my hips relentlessly against his small frame. I brought his body down on me, holding him close and forcing him to meet my thrusts.

I pressed my lips against his- invading his senses and fucking his mouth with my tongue. I savored the taste of him; tracing his lips with my tongue, nipping and sucking on his swollen lips. I captured his tongue between my lips, sucking it. He moaned unabashed into my mouth and thrusted his hips up as I brought him down onto my cock- his hard and wet phallus slid against my stomach and his greedy hole swallowed my throbbing length.

" _Baby_ ," I moaned, releasing his lips in favor for his jaw, where I bit and sucked onto a previous mark that I had sucked into his skin earlier.

"Hazz," He breathed out, small whimpers leaving his lips and quick pants falling from his sore throat. His chest rose and fell quickly as I fucked into him.

" _Oh God_!" He choked out as I thrusted into his pliant body faster, my hips snapping against his and grazing over his prostate with every thrust. His body arched into mine and shook with the power of my restless hips. I forced his body farther up the bed, and then back down onto my hard cock.

" _Nngh_!" He sobbed, words jumbled and lip bitten raw. Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes and flowed down the sides of his face. I released his shoulders and paused my hips. I took in a deep, shuddery breath, before moving my arms so that I could pin his shoulders to the bed.

"You feel so good - so tight." I groaned, shoveling his shoulders into the bed and driving my dick into his ass.

"Stop!" He moaned out, "I-I can't! J-just sto-stop!" He whimpered, words frantic and voice growing louder.

I leaned over him, my arms falling so I ended up pinning him with my forearms instead, just so I could kiss him.

"I love you, so much. You have no idea how much I need you- all the time. My precious, beautiful- _so beautiful_ -boy." I told him, voice deep and slow as I filled his greedy body with my own. "I'm so sorry, baby- Louis! _Lou, oh_!" I moaned into his mouth, feverish and biting at his swollen lips.

I could feel I was getting close, my hips pivoting unrhythmically against him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, he bit his lip- sucking it into his mouth and whimpering. His breathing picked up and he tried rolling his hips into mine, but I had him pinned to the bed with my body.

I knew he was just as close as I was.

-

I should have stopped. I had every chance to stop. I could have stopped at any time. I took it too far, when in reality, I could have stopped at any given moment because there is no 'too far'. It was never too late to stop, to just pull out and stop. There was no 'too far', because no matter how far I went- I could have stopped.

But, he looked so beautiful, I mean, when does he not? But, he was sweaty and marked up by me- claimed by my mouth and body. My hands were on him, my fingers were in him, my mouth kissed him, my dick was in him, and it made him all the more beautiful. I wanted to make him cum all the time, I wanted to be in him all the time, I wanted to touch his pretty little cock all the time, I wanted to touch him all the time, I wanted to kiss him all the time- to mark him and just... I don't know. I wanted- needed -to claim him.

-

"Does it feel good, Louis, because you feel so good- like this, with me. I want you like this all the time, love." I moaned, kissing his kneck, right next to his ear.

He keened high in his throat before letting out the loudest, high pitched, moan of the night. His body convulsed and he cried out my name- repeating it like a mantra, his own prayer. His body twisted from under me and I released his shoulders. His wrists tugged at his restraints, before he started fucking himself down onto my hips, chasing his release.

His eyes glazed over as I pounded into him, our hips meeting and clashing in a slick sound; skin-on-skin. Our moans were swallowed by the feel of our quivering lips tangled together. He kissed me back with a vengeance, biting and nipping, sucking and licking.

"It fe-feels so good. I feel li-like I-I'm," He broke off into a strangled moan as his cock spurted, a string of cum landing on my stomach. His abdomen clenched as his orgasm crashed into him and his greedy hole gripped my shaft- forcing my own release out of me.

"Yeah. There you go, feels so good Lou." I bit out, riding out my orgasm with him, my dick grinding into him.

"I- nngh!" He choked out, cock dripping and leaking as he came in long spurts, painting my stomach in his transparent release.

I swallowed his words like I'd swallow hard liquor, with a burn. I milked the last of our climaxes out before collapsing on top of him with a sob. A strangled cry- animalistic, predatorial, a sound only a monster could make. It triggered a cry out of him- helpless, confused, a sound only a scared child could make.

I hated myself in that moment. I contemplated giving him a gun so he could put me out of my misery- but then, maybe he'd do the same? Maybe, he'd end my misery, and then end his own. And, God, I couldn't live with that.

We'd both have to live with our demons- mine being myself, and his being me.

-

"I'm sorry." I sobbed into his kneck as he cried beneath me. I clutched at his body, holding it close to mine. He fidgeted beneath me, "Out!" He said, voice quiet and raw, " _Get out of me_." He whimpered, but, I couldn't. I refused to leave his body, like I had left his heart.

I clutched at his skin, my nails biting into his flesh, but he didn't even flinch- as if he were numb. I shook my head, and bit into his shoulder to quiet my sobs and screams.

" _Please_." He begged, wheezing frantically. He tugged at his restraints and twisted his body with all of the strength he had left, before collapsing onto the bed with a scream- a loud one; a pained noise, so haunting and deafening. His muscles convulsed and he looked so sore and tired. I wiped furiously at my eyes and lifted up, pulling out of him.

I untied one of his restraints and he instantly went to hit me. I gripped his wrist and brought it to my lips, kissing the scarred tissue. He flinched, but let me. I pressed kiss-after-kiss into the bruised skin of his delicate wrist.

"I'm sorry. _Louis, I'm so sorry_." I sobbed, my tears falling onto the tender skin of his wrist bone and mixing in with every kiss I pressed into the flesh. He looked at me, his eyes so conflicted and lost.

"I don't know-I don't. What'd I do, to you? Hazz- _Harry_! I don't-" He broke off into another scream, and I lurched, pressing my lips to his and swallowing his cries. His hand fisted itself in my hair and we sobbed into each other's mouths. Tears tainted the love behind my lips and the pain behind his.

I kissed him with the taste of an apology on my tongue that I forced into him- I forced so much into him. I blindly undid the other restraint and he clawed at my back, my shoulders, my hips, my kneck, and my scalp as I claimed his mouth- as I invaded his senses.

"I trusted you! My family-my mom! Trust-Trusted you!" He screamed into my mouth, voice loud and clear as he fought the pain in his throat.

"I know. And I’m so sorry." I cooed, lazily kissing his lips, shushing him as he tore at my skin, until he broke it. I gripped him tighter, letting him release his frustrations out on me.

"I'll kill you!" He sobbed.

"Please do, Love." I whispered into his kneck.

"I can't!" He shook his head vehemently, forcing my mouth off of his, "I can't! _I don't know how_!" He choked out, sinking his nails into my shoulder blades and dragging them down, bringing blood to the surface that glided down my back. He sank his teeth into my chest and just- cried.

-

We laid like that for awhile, him crying into my chest, and me with a steadily bleeding back. I shushed him at the best of my ability, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. I pressed as many innocent kisses as I could into his hair, coddling his body close to mine. His ankles had still been tied up, but he hadn't complained.

His body kept twitching, and I assumed it was the drug still working its way out of his system. His cries soon seized, and he fell silent. I assumed he was asleep, so I just enveloped him into my arms, my biceps bracketing his small figure as I held him close, still murmuring apologies into his skin.

I couldn't seem to find sleep as easily as he did, because every time I had closed my eyes, all I could see was his body shaking beneath mine, begging for me to pull out of him and apologize, to hold him close, to wrap him up in the epiphany of my sorrow and shame and guilt.

All I wanted was to be close to him, the closest that I could get to him without us becoming one. I was selfish, greedy, and a monster.

I had always been a man, who had sworn on his life that he'd never let his sexual perversion ever lead him into touching a child, but I had broken that promise when I had first met Louis.

I wanted him from the start, and I challenged myself by allowing him to be a part of my life. He was so beautiful, so tempting.

My favorite sin.

-

"Hmph," Louis grunted from beneath me, and I brought my hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks and rubbing our noses together. A pout formed on his swollen lips, and he pushed at my chest. I leaned off of him, resting on my elbows. He blinked his eyes open, staring up at me. The first emotion that I registered in his eyes was pain. Nothing but pain, the kind that inflicts you from the inside out, tearing you apart and ruining you emotionally, physically, and mentally.

" _It hurts_." He choked out, his bottom lip starting to quiver. I cooed, brushing his fringe off of his forehead and caressing the skin of his warm cheek.

"I know."

One tear fell from his eyes, eyes that were duller than the sky when it stormed. Pain stared at me in those stormy eyes, and my chest shook. I wiped his tear away, only for another to fall, and I released a shaky breath, guilt and shame settling deep inside of my gut, pulling into a tight ball in my very core.

I had been the cause of the pain in his eyes, and it was slowly, but surely, killing me.

"Make it stop." He begged, "You made it _hurt_ , you have to make it _stop_."

"I don't, I don't know how." I mumbled, a tear of my own falling from my eye. I quickly turned my head, to embarrassed to cry. It wasn't my turn to cry. I wasn't allowed to be sad over something that was my fault, not when the person that I hurt was begging for me to help them.

"Figure it out!" He snapped, "Make it stop hurting!" He wailed, pushing at my chest and sobbing loudly.

"Where's it hurt?" I asked him, trying to calm him down. I combed my shaking fingers through his hair, wiping furiously under his eyes as he cried.

"Ev-everywhere you touched," He wept, left hand pointing at his chest- his heart -as he said it.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked him, my shoulders shaking and my gut contracting tightly. I felt sick.

"Untie me," He jerked his leg for emphasis, so I quickly did just that. I untied his left ankle, inspecting the dark red rings around it, and then I untied the other one.

As soon as he was untied, he brought his legs to his chest, and folded into himself. His body shook, but he wasn't crying.

"Do you-do you want to take a shower?" I asked him, and he hesitantly shook his head.

"I want a bath." He mumbled, and I nodded my agreement, before standing up and slipping on my boxers from earlier.

-

The fact that I have stolen something from Louis that he'll never be able to get back, settles inside of my stomach like a lump of coal, and every breath I take is a dose of gasoline, and every time I think about Louis, it’s like a match- and I just, I just burst into flames.

I burn.

-

"I can't move, so like, you," He broke off, squeezing his eyes shut tightly in shame as his lips started to wobble again, "You have to _carry_ me."

"Okay." I whispered,

"And, I need you to get my bag. I have clothes in there. I need clothes." He told me, huddling into himself even more. I averted my gaze from where he was on my bed, and instead left the room to get started on making the bath water.

Once I reached the bathroom, I quickly turned the bathtub on and filled it with bubble gum scented soap and bath bubbles, because that's how Louis liked it. I left the room while the bathtub filled, and went to my kitchen where I got Louis a cup of water. I went back to my room, Louis still folded into himself on my bed, and grabbed Louis' bag from off the floor and threw it on the bed. I set the glass of water on the nightstand and left without a word.

I turned off the water in the tub, and grabbed a washcloth and a towel. I didn't need to worry about soap, conditioner, or shampoo because they were already in the bathroom on the hanging shelf.

I left the bathroom again, and headed into the hallway, and from there I entered my kitchen. I brewed up some coffee, and took out some pancake mix, eggs, and bacon. I set it all out on the counter for later.

-

"You find what you wanna wear?" I asked him.

I was back in my room, Louis was sitting in the center of it with his bag in his lap and my duvet covering his lower half.

"Yeah," He mumbled, tossing the bag off of his lap and revealing a pair of fuchsia pants and a white hoodie.

"Okay, are you ready then?" I knelt on the bed, ready to pick him up and carry him to the bathroom. He slowly nodded his head, unfolding himself and revealing his naked form. He kept his gaze low as he made his way over to me, and I made sure to avoid looking at his body, decidedly keeping my eyes on his face. I picked him up bridal style, and he fell limply into my hold, his head tossed back and his eyes closed tightly.

I carried him into the bathroom, and gently set him down in the tub. He winced, hissing, his face scrunched up in discomfort, before he was slowly settling into the warm water. I slumped against the floor once he was in, my back hitting the bathroom sink. I dragged a tired hand down my face, and released a yawn, my eyes drooping. Louis sat across from me, his eyes closed as he relaxed into the porcelain tub.

His features were schooled in a thoughtful expression, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his brows were furrowed. I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"Why are you still here?" He asked me, opening his eyes and turning his head to look at me. I simply shrugged before standing up and going to leave, "Call my name when you're done." I told him, exiting the bathroom and thumping my head against the door when it closed. I breathed out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose before heading into my kitchen to make breakfast.

By the time I had finished cooking the pancakes and eggs, Louis still hadn't called my name, but I didn't think much of it because he did like to take long baths and showers. I moved onto the bacon, and once that was done, and I had set our plates and cleaned up. Louis still hadn't called my name.

I didn't think twice before rushing down the hall and knocking on the bathroom door. I didn't receive an answer, so I pressed my ear to the wood, and what I heard made me open the door right away, because Louis was crying.

When I opened the door, I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Louis was sitting in a tub full of red, holding one of my shaving razors in his small hand. His bleeding arm was under the water, and he was sobbing loudly.

I hesitated, because I didn't exactly know what to do, but then I was quickly grabbing the towel I had set out for Louis and damn-there dragging the boy out of the tub. He kept whimpering and swatting at my hands. His whole body smelled strongly of blood; metallic.

I quickly covered his shaking and nude body with the towel and dried him off as fast as I could. Once he was dry, I used the towel, wrapping it around his bleeding arm and applying heavy pressure. I kept shushing him, my breathing chaotic and my hands trembling.

" _Fuck_!" I cursed, " _What'd you do_!"

He didn't answer me, but his sobbing seemed to reduce to quiet sniffles and hiccups.

"I leave you, so you can take a bath, and you-you," I struggled, my eyes searching his frantically. I removed one of my hands from his bleeding arm and gripped his chin, forcing him to look at me. When his eyes met mine, another sob slipped passed his bruised lips and I shook my head in frustration, " _What did you do_?" I asked him, again, anger lacing my tone.

Once again, he didn't answer me, instead he swatted my hand off of his face, and turned his head away from me.

My lips pursed into a thin line, and I removed the towel to see if the bleeding had stopped, and it had. There were six deep, long gashes in his arm that he made with a razor blade. I figured he only did it twice, but since my razor has three blades, he ended up with six cuts.

I sighed heavily, dropping his arm. He looked at me then, and I gave him the most impassive face known to man, "Stay here." I told him. I moved him out of my way, and unplugged the tub, the potent smell of soap and blood clashing together as I did so.

I turned around to find his eyes on me, and I gave him one last look before leaving the room in search of my first-aid kit.

I found it in my bedroom, underneath my bed. I quickly looked through it and grabbed some gauze and antiseptic. I headed back into the bathroom, Louis still there, his pointer finger dragging over the cuts on his arm, and I clutched at my chest when I saw him. He quickly looked up at me, dropping both of his arms at his sides, staring at the ground.

I didn't waste any time. I quickly cleaned his cuts, put some antiseptic on them, and then wrapped them in gauze. He thanked me when I was done, and asked me if he could get in the shower to wash the blood off of him, but I told him no and he only frowned, before limping out of the room and into my bedroom so he could get dressed.

I headed in after him, just as he was pulling his boxers on. I gave him a sympathetic smile, "Breakfast's done."

"I'm not hungry." He shrugged, pulling his hoodie on over his head.

"You have to eat." I told him, my brows knitting together and my eyes narrowing at him. I placed a hand on my hip and waited for him to say something else, but I got no response.

I huffed, running a hand through my hair and waving a dismissive hand at him, and then I went to leave the room.

"What'd you give me last night?" He asked me as I opened the door, and I turned around slowly, giving him a confused look.

"What'd you drug me with last night?" He elaborated, and I pouted, before pursing my lips and saying a quick, "GHB," And then I left the room.

-

Louis sat on my couch, his knees tucked under him. He didn't have on any socks, and his hair was a messy mop upon his head. His hair was sticking up all over the place because he hadn't brushed it. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy, lifeless.

"You ate one pancake, I'm- Are you oka-"

"No."

"Wait, I know you're not okay, you have every right to not be okay for the rest of your life, but dammit Louis! You're putting your life in danger, don't be selfish." I scoffed, and his head snapped toward me, his posture changed, and the life behind his eyes made an appearance, and it was pain. It was pure and raw pain.

"You're right. I'm being selfish. I'll eat more." He reassured me, but he didn't sound very convincing, he actually sounded scared.

"Louis," I sighed, rubbing my temples, "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"Then why are you shaking?"

" _Because I can still feel your hands on me_." He whispered.

" _Baby_ ," I breathed, and he winced, his eyes clenching shut. He stood up quickly, distancing himself from me. I reached my hand out for him, my eyebrows furrowed. He stared at my outstretched hand, and then he was running. He took off, and I was hot on his heels.

"Louis!" I yelled, chasing after him. He flung the front door open, and before he could make it outside, I was grabbing his hoodie and pulling him back into the house.

"Get off!" He screamed, and I quickly released him in favor of gripping both of his shoulders and turning him around to face me.

"I wanna go home," He wailed, quaking under my grip.

"No."

"Stop telling me no!" He cried, trying to remove my hands from his shoulders. When I didn't let go and only gripped tighter, he started to cry.

Pain.

It stared at me, sharp and earnest, in his eyes. It mocked me, spat that the pain that replaced the bright lively look in his eyes was because of me. It made my eyes well up, and before I knew it, I was crying too.

"It hurts." He sobbed, and I nodded my head in agreement.

"I feel trapped. I can feel you, everywhere, on me."

" _I'm sorry_." I fell to my knees, my hands slipping from his shoulders to wrap around his waist as I hid my face in his shoulder.

"I think you broke me, Harry. _I think I'm broken_."

"Tell me what to do!"

"I won't tell anyone, Harry. I promise I won't say a word. Just let me go home, please! Just-Just go away, please." He begged, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching, his body shaking, and his chest tightening. He sobbed, wailed, wept, and damn-there screamed.

"I can't let you go. I can't let you leave me." My hands fisted the sides of his hoodie, my cries becoming more insistent, "I love you, _Louis please_! I'm begging you, right now, right here! _Please! Please! Please stay_. Don't leave me." I pleaded, hiccupping into his shoulder and trying to regulate my breathing.

"Haven't you already asked for enough? What more could you want from me if I stay!"

" _For you to love me, like I love you_."

"Oh, wow! Well, _raping_ me sure was a great fucking start!" He grit out, trying to push me off of him.

"It wasn't like that." I sniveled.

"Oh, sure! You didn't see it that way, but while you were enjoying yourself, I was drugged out of my fucking mind and having my body _violated_ and I couldn't _fucking do shit_!" He hissed out, giving me one hard shove and effectively removing me from his frame.

"Louis, I'm sorry ple-"

"Stop begging for shit, you don't deserve anything from me! I don't owe you anything." He growled, tiny hands balling into fists. His small frame shook, and before I knew it, he was driving his fist into my wall. The wall cracked, some of the drywall chipping off, but he didn't even seem to notice. His breathing was laborious and his jaw was set, and he delivered another blow to my wall.

"Louis!" I gripped his small fists in my hands and forced him into my chest, bracketing his small body with my bigger one. He didn't even fight it, but I could feel the tremors of fear falling off of his body in long waves, and my instincts were telling me to let him go, but I only held me closer- tighter.

"You can leave, you can go. I'm sorry, _fuck_ , I'm sorry. Please, Louis, _I'm so sorry_. I love you, I love you. If I never see you again, please Louis, I love you and I'm so sorry." I struggled, my voice hoarse, "I'm so in love with you, it makes me _irrational_ , it makes me _hurt_ and I'm so crazy, _baby_." I choked out, "But I love you, and I know that can't fix anything, _but I'm so in love with you. God! You're it for me_." I croaked, my lips wet and my eyes red rimmed, and everything hurt in that moment so bad, everything ached.

For the first time, for the very first time since I had met the blue-eyed, feathery-haired, tan-skinned, and absolutely perfect boy, _it appeared that holding Louis in my arms only made it hurt more._

 


	11. Dark Red; The Color Of The Lips You Kissed Me With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd love him still, even if every person in the world had claimed his body, because I had been the first to touch it.
> 
> My chest rose and fell rapidly, and I threw my head back on the bench and stared up at the sky and the falling snowflakes. Some landed in my lashes, and it brought a bitter-sweet smile to my lips. I felt the bench squeak beside me, and I knew Louis had decided to sit next to me.
> 
> His cold, gloveless hands wrapped around my torso, and then he was in my lap. I brought my hands around him quickly, squeezing him into my chest. I couldn't fight the sob that clawed its way up my throat. It felt like I was vomiting up the pain that had settled itself within me, and it felt so good to hold him. He ran his fingers through my hair, and I just held him, nails digging into his ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Hello, how are you? Good I hope.
> 
> I'm not dead, so that's some good news, am I right? 
> 
> I want to apologize, from the very bottom of my heart, about this very late update.
> 
> Okay, now that that's out of the way, I hope you all enjoy this very emotional and shitty chapter from your's truly. Haha.
> 
> Of course, read the tags and remember that it is never to late to decide that you no longer want to read this because of personal or non personal issues. This fic isn't for everyone xx.
> 
> Kudo and comment and I'll give you a kiss, or a hug, either is fine. Maybe a handshake? No. Okaii.
> 
> Ignore all mistakes and the shittiness because it's 4:04 A.M. here.
> 
> Lolzz
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction, and this is a work that isn't to be recognized nor related to the boys of One Direction. I do not believe, nor do I want others to believe, that the boys in this story, that just so happen to be non-fictional characters, are in any way, like the people in this work. I do not own the boys of One Direction, and the only thing that I should ever be be held accountable for, is the fact that my characters, in this fan-fiction piece, resemble them and have their names.

"I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand and the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep, and there are no words for that." - Brian Andreas.

-

Dear Reader,

There are currently, as I write this, 7.3 billion people on Earth, and if you put me in a room with all of them, my gaze would fall upon Louis' in a heartbeat.

There are no words to explain my feelings for him, and try as I might, there never will be. There are so many words, for so many things, but there are no words to describe what if feels like to be in love with him.

I am still at a loss for words, because I'm not the best at explaining myself. It's not easy telling you all of my secrets, especially since I'm not a very open person. I'm trying my best here, shredding my aching heart and hoping to make you understand. But, there really is no way to rationalize any of this, is there?

I know that loving him is wrong, that being dependent and reliant is wrong, but I need him. Nothing has hurt me more, nothing has made me feel as human as loving him him has.

I have always felt like a monster, a disease to society, but Louis taught me pain, and he taught me joy, and he taught me strength, and he taught me pride, and he taught me love.

I want to share a Forever with him, one that lasts through the ages. Something eternal, immortal, and ethereal.

-

Louis' hands were laced in front of him, his tiny feet were shuffling against the ground, and his head was bowed. He looked so lost and confused.

I wanted to wrap him up, hold him closer than ever. I wanted to kiss his tear-stained cheeks, press my lips to his and take all of his pain away.

He peeked up at me, his pain filled eyes staring into mine; they were glassy, distant and unfocused. My breath hitched, and my mouth was moving before my brain could catch up, " _Baby_."

He flinched, his shoulders hunching in, and he quickly flicked his gaze back to the floor. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted to cradle him to my chest and whisper my apologies and sweet- _sweet_ -declarations of love in his ear until he was fixed. But, Louis was broken, and no matter how tightly I held him, it wouldn't help; it wouldn't take the pain away, nothing could take the pain away.

"Can we leave now?" He asked me, his voice was small and hesitant, and it made my skin crawl.

I simply nodded, grabbing my keys out of the key bowl. I stared at the blank walls before me, instead of the broken boy standing in my hallway. I turned around slowly, my eyes landing on him one last time, before all I could see was the door- I opened it.

-

The drive reminded me of the first one we had ever took, when I had first met him. It also reminded me of the first time I had kissed him, and I felt so sick. His presence was making me sick. I couldn't have him how I wanted him, and he didn't want me at all.

Everything was turning to shit, and the shittiest thing in my life, is myself.

I pulled up to his street, the low hum of the engine roared as I stopped and parked the car. My fingers were twitching, itching to lock all of the doors and beg him for forgivness, but I was drained. It appeared that no matter how much I loved him, nothing was worth it anymore, nothing was worth the fighting, crying, and yelling.

My heart was on fire, and my lungs were burning, and the car was too hot, and everything was just-just _to much_. Louis turned to me, his blue _blue_ eyes searching mine, his lips were dark and his skin glowed. He was so beautiful, and all I wanted to do was fight for him, beg him to stay, beg him to forgive me, beg him to love me, beg him to at least try.

But the fight had died within me when I held him in my arms, and the ache in my heart had only seemed to increase.

"So, this is it, huh?" He asked me, his voice but a whisper. I followed the way his mouth caressed every word that fell from his sinfully pink lips, and I stared at his eyes, getting lost in his crystal clear deep blues. I fell into the deep end, drowning in his eyes and slowly drenching the fire within me. Everything stilled, slowed down and cooled. My chest grew lighter, and the air around us got a bit thinner.

I licked my lips, "Do you want it to be?" My voice was deep, a slow sensual drawl. It would have easily lured anyone in, but Louis wasn't a fool. He sighed, falling back in his seat, effectively breaking eye-contact with me. He stared at his pants, picking at a loose string on them. His chest was rising and falling at a languid pace, and my eyes slowly drinked up the sight of him. I wanted my last memory of him to be something worth remembering, and seeing him so calm would be a great way to end things.

But, I never get what I want.

"Can we talk before I go?" He asked me, still staring at his pants.

"Yeah."

He looked up at me, his fringe tossed over his forehead and his eyes catching a hold of mine, "I- I just, I want to know why, you know? I want to know why you had to be so selfish, why you had to use me, take advantage of me? Do you know how that makes me feel?" He was getting worked-up again, but I was so drained, and the pool that I had been drowning in within his eyes, slowly started to boil.

"Do you know how it feels to put all of your trust into someone, and then in the end, you can't even- you don't know if it was ever real? I can't trust you, I can't believe you, and I damn sure can't love you, but you're so damn persistent, so I have no choice but to miss you. I miss you so much, Harry." His voice was breaking; his shattered heart climbed up his throat and slowly tore at all of his insides on its way. "I miss who I thought you were, and it really fucking sucks."

"I um, I understand- in a sense." I told him, my brows furrowed.

He turned to face me, his eyes burning a hole in my chest and piercing my heart, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't think you want to know."

Louis nodded at me, his lips pursed. He ripped the string off of his pants and then opened his door. I wanted to stop him, I wanted to call his name, I wanted so much in that moment.

I always want so much when it comes to him, and I was just so tired of wanting stuff that I didn't need from him.

I reached over and grabbed his wrist, and he turned his head to face. I didn't know what to say or do; I fish mouthed for a moment, and then my eyes fell upon his kneck. I couldn't see any of the hickeys I had left there, and the ones I could see were starting to fade.

"I can't see any of the bruises on your kneck and stuff, because you have on a hoodie, and it's getting cooler outside, so try to wear them a lot." I told him, releasing his wrist. His brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a tight line, and then he nodded his head. I watched as he shut the door behind him, and desire settled deep in my bones, begging me to go after him and say anything or _do_ anything to make my time with him last longer, because if those were to be the last words I ever spoke to him, well, _shit_.

I released a shaky breath, straightening up in my seat and looking briefly at Louis' house, and then I drove off.

-

My coffee was cold.

Louis had just left my life for good, and the only thing that I could think of, was my coffee- my cold coffee.

I wanted to scream, maybe even throw something and break a couple things. I wanted to burn down my house while I lay in my bed, picking the petals off of flowers like a school girl, all the while singing, "He loves me, he loves me not."

But, the only thing, the absolute only thing on my mind was, "My coffee is cold. My coffee is cold. My coffee is cold."

Of course I didn't plan on drinking the coffee, but it didn't really matter what I wanted, because what I wanted, I wouldn't get.

I didn't want to think about coffee, but I was thinking about coffee. I didn't want to let Louis go, but I let Louis go. I didn't mean to fall in love, but I fell in love. I didn't mean to hurt him or myself -or anyone!- but I did.

I grabbed my mug, the glass cold against my palm, and I poured it down the drain.

I spent a couple of days like that, my mind wandering on its own free will, my thoughts completely out of my control. This time though, they weren't perverted, and they were a lot more annoying.

I spent my days crying over breakfast, I spent my evenings skipping work, I spent my nights thinking about stupid shit like:

When was my rent do?

When should I see my mother again?

Should I see my mother at all?

-

I didn't, not even once, think about Louis, and this went on for a whole two months.

Until...

"Harry, you're gonna get fired if you cut work one more time. Megan's been lenient, only because you've been working here for so long, but Harry," Amanda gripped my shoulder, her eyes searching my face. I avoided her gaze, my bottom lip caught between my teeth. "You've been cutting out for two months, you've got to come to work, okay?"

I nodded my head, sighing. We were sat at the diner, a small table in the back. I was a bit uncomfortable, being that I hadn't been there in so long. It felt like there was a ghost hovering over me, a few blurred memories, flashes of blue and a bright smile. I cringed, hunching in on myself, my gut was twisting and it felt like there was a pressure behind my eyes. It was begging me to close them, to shut them tightly and reminisce a bit.

"I'll come in." I breathed out harshly, standing up quickly and whirling around to leave, and that's when I seen him.

He was sat at the counter, picking at an all to familiar dessert. His hair was swept up in a quiff, which was different. He had on a pair of tight black jeans, and a band shirt.  
He turned his head, smiling at a pretty little girl who I recognized as his little sister, Lottie. He had eyeliner on beneath his eyes, the blue of his eyes appearing brighter. My hands shook at my sides, and I just wanted to leave. I wanted to go home and cry and think about anything but blue eyes, soft skin, pink lips, loud laughter, and _LouisLouisLouis_.

"Hey," I turned around to face Amanda when she tapped my shoulder, "Are you okay?" I shook my head, and before she could say anything else, I was heading out of the restaurant, because for fucking once, for once in a whole two months, I was going to do what I wanted to do.

I felt his eyes on me as I left the diner, and it felt like a bullet had just pierced through my back and straight into my heart. I stumbled a bit, turning my head slightly to catch his gaze through my peripheral vision. He looked good, he looked better than good- he looked great, beautiful, _brilliant_.

I left the restaurant quickly, blinking my eyes rapidly to rid them of the tears that were building up in the corners.

-

Louis was dark tea, old movies, vintage clothing, and loud laughter. He was luminous eyes, soft caramel-colored hair, fluffy fringe, and over-sized shirts. Louis was Adventure Time on Cartoon Network and pillow fights on Saturdays. Louis was cuddles and soft whispers. Louis was the big spoon, he was big smiles and even bigger hugs. Louis was sunshine and bright green meadows. He was curious and brave, strong minded, hard headed, and brilliant- Louis was _brilliant_ ; beautiful, perfect, a work of art.

Louis William Tomlinson was, and always will be, the love of my life.

But, one thing Louis never will be, is mine.

I'd destroyed him, and it kills me everyday. It eats away at the last of my damned soul, and one day my body will be nothing but a shell; the carcass of a man whom once dedicated his life to loving a boy.

Louis was nothing and everything. He was the quiet kid in school, the uncooperative boy at home, a pity party to all of his previous babysitters, and the entire bane of my existence.

He was my deepest and darkest sin, yet I can't find it in me to regret loving him. He's my creator, the person that put a fire in me that I can't extinguish. He's my bane, the cause of my distress. He makes everything hurt, in the worst way, but love does not come without heartache.

I know now, that Louis is a walking, living, and breathing flame, and I know that within that flame, my heart is steadily burning.

It hurt so much, to see him that day after two months of nothing. It hurt so bad, and it felt like I was burning, it felt like someone had put me on a rotisserie and was cooking me alive.

-

"Glad to see you showed up." Amanda clapped me on the back when I walked into the diner. I gave her a small smile, and quickly put on my apron and got started on making a few cupcakes, pies, and cakes for the display case. It took me a few hours, but I eventually got it done. Amanda worked the counter, and a few of my co-workers helped cook the desserts and the meals.

It was a busy day, but I figured it would be since Halloween was coming up soon. Louis had started school already about a month or so ago, in September. It was nearing late October, and the diner was decorated in purple and orange colors.

We had a family discount going on, and it made for bigger and better business. The desserts were selling fast, and I didn't feel up to making anymore, so Amanda took the back and decided to work the oven, while I worked the cash register.

Business was good, and it was nearing nine-thirty when he walked in. I had been cleaning one of the cabinets to the counter, so he hadn't seen me and I hadn't seen him. He rang the bell that was placed on the counter, and I- being shocked an all -ended up hitting my head on the open drawer of the cash register, causing money to fly out of it.

"Sorry- shit! fuck! I'm sorry." His voice was soft, it was so soft and floaty and I was so fascinated. I was frozen, absolutely mesmerized. I stood up slowly, my wide emerald eyes staring at his.

"Harry!" Amanda hollered, coming out of the back with a dish towel in her hand, she paused in her step when she seen me and Louis having some type of awkward staring contest.

She tentatively placed her hand on my shoulder, and I blinked harshly, turning to face her. She gave me a confused look, but I just shook it off, and with as much courage as I could, I mustered up a quick, "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

I swallowed, my hands shaking and sweat already forming on my temples. I opened my mouth to speak, but the voice that broke the silence didn't belong to me.

"Can I have a chocolate cupcake, no icing. I prefer the icing inside." I clenched my jaw, and stared with narrowed eyes passed Amanda's shoulder. She gave me one more look, and then she was pushing me out of her way and moving to stand in front of the counter.

"I'll get you that sweetie, it'll be ten dollars." The urge to correct her, and tell her that Louis never pays was so strong, but I just clenched my jaw even tighter, squinted my eyes a bit harder, and balled my shaking hands into trembling fists.

"Now, while I do that, Harry," I turned around and faced her. She gave me a tight smile, "Clean up your fucking mess, _hun_." She added an extra eye roll and a saucy smile, but it was all in good fun. I gave her a big smile, my tongue caught between my teeth. Her eyes softened, and she pointed a finger at the mess on the floor, and I raised my hands in surrender.

"There better not be a single penny missing, mister."

"Course not." I told her, walking toward her and crouching down to pick up the money that had fallen out of the cash register. I didn't even flinch when I felt her perfectly manicured hands running through my hair as she spoke to Louis about the amount of cupcakes he'd like because she didn't mind giving him a couple free ones.

"I'm kinda in a rush, I have somewhere to be at ten." I stood back up, elbowing Amanda out of my way and placing the money in the register. I didn't chance a look at Louis as I did so, even as I felt his eyes on me. I frowned at the mention of him having to be somewhere, because I knew he had to visit his ill sister.

"Ah! Okay, I could still give you a little something. Hazz?" I tried not to wince at the nickname, but I did, I stumbled away from her, and glared. She huffed, crossing her arms, "What do you recommend?"

"Give him his favorite."

"It-it's not my favorite anymore." He squeaked out, clearing his throat. I looked at him, my eyes capturing his and locking him in on my gaze. His blues didn't waver nor falter, so I propped my elbow up on the counter and rested my chin in my hand.

"What's your favorite now then, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I actually do, so um, yeah."

"That's uh, that's fine." I backed up, shaking my head and turning around to face Amanda, her gaze kept flickering between me and him, and it was slightly unnerving.

"What? Stop staring."

"Nothing, it's nothing," She was quick to take Louis' ten dollar bill and place it in the register. She grabbed his cupcake out of the display case and handed it to him with a mumbled, "Goodnight."

He sat at the counter instead of a table, to my surprise. He eyed us both as he took the wrapper off of the cupcake, and then he just-just stared at it.

"Don't mind him, Harry. He does this all the time." She patted my shoulder as she took off her apron and left the diner with a quick kiss on the cheek and a promise to see me later.

I took off my apron, hanging it up. I checked the diner a bit, making sure everything was clean. I turned off the lights in the back and then I took a seat at the counter, two seats away from him.

"Are you gonna eat it, because I have to lock up." I asked him, drumming my fingers on the counter and staring at the rings that adorned my hands.

"No." He mumbled, his voice thick. I glanced at him, my eyes falling upon his wet cheeks and sad eyes.

"You're crying."

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like this kind."

"Okay, throw it away and I'll give you a different one."

He looked at me, like, really looked at me. He was tense. His eyes were wet and so were his cheeks, and his eyeliner was running, but he was so beautiful. He had on all black, and he had a few highlights in his hair. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to wipe his make-up off, slowly undress him, and then put him in one of my shirts. I just wanted to lie down with him, feel him curl around me until we both fell asleep.

"You always get this, this far away and creepy look in your eyes when you're thinking about me."

"It's not always you I'm thinking about," I sighed, standing up, ignoring his flinch, and grabbing his favorite cupcake out of the display case.

"How much?"

"I don't know what's been going on here, but as far as I'm concerned, I told you to always put your stuff on my tab."

"That's- How much is the cupcake, Harry?"

"It's on the house." I picked up his old cupcake and tossed it in the rubbish bin. He didn't bother looking at me as he carried his cupcake out of the diner and left.

-

I may have cried myself to sleep that night with Louis' name on my lips.

-

I didn't see Louis after that, and things were a bit easier.

It was Christmas Eve, and Louis' thirteenth birthday, when I finally seen him again.

It wasn't necessarily what or how I wanted to see him, though.

"The thing is, though, is that he's got this big job and he works all the time. And, you know, men that have big jobs and work long hours usually end up being big time cheaters."

"I feel like you're looking into this too much, you've only been on one date with the dude." I told Amanda, turning another corner as we jogged around the block. Her legs were clad in a pair of bright pink joggers, and she was wearing a white sweatshirt. I had on a pair of black sweatpants, a grey hoodie, and my hair was tied up in a bun. She was going on about some business guy, a wealthy hot man who she had went on a date with.

"Yes, but I want to marry him."

"Life's not fair, you never get what you want. You'll be lucky if you get married at all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She stopped, gripping my shoulder. I paused, giving her an inquisitive look, until it clicked. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Oh, well, good luck to you too, asshole." She snorted, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and sprinting away from me. I just cocked my hip out, and let my hair down, completely unfazed.

It hadn't been the first time that I had let something Louis related slip passed my lips.

When I stood back up from my hunched over position when I had let my hair down, I did not expect to see Louis, and a girl around his age, kissing.

My temperature was spiked, and I was sweating in cold winter weather from my jog, but I felt chilled. I felt icy and bitter. My blood ran cold, and then it froze.

My heart turned to ice, and then it shattered. I wanted to yell, I wanted to walk over there, rip him from her, and place my lips over his, because _I_ owned his mouth.

I had claimed it first. I had claimed his whole body first, and everything hurt.

My face was frozen and I knew I was crying, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

I wanted to run away from my problems, like I could run off the calories I had put on. I wanted to just, I wanted to be okay again, and I wasn't.

I wiped at my face furiously, feeling Winter's tears starting to fall upon my heated skin, and it didn't help much because it made me emotionally colder, and physically cooler.

Louis looked so beautiful is the thing, and I say it all the time, but he did. Louis is so beautiful, and it hurts so much. He released the girl's waist, and when he opened his eyes, they latched onto mine. He wrapped his arms around the girl, and as she buried her face in his shoulder, he smirked at me. I squinted, my whole body shaking, and I wanted to run, I wanted to flee, but then he'd win.

I looked around me, the snow starting to fall harder, and then I spotted a nearby bench. I walked towards it, and then took a seat. It was cold, but so was I, and maybe me and the bench could freeze together and I'd die and become as unimportant as the bench.

I was miles away from home because I had planned to stay at Amanda's, and I didn't have a car, and all I wanted to do was cry because it felt like I had been cheated on, and it hurt. It hurt so much, but I loved him- I still love him.

 

I'd love him still, even if every person in the world had claimed his body, because I had been the first to touch it.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, and I threw my head back on the bench and stared up at the sky and the falling snowflakes. Some landed in my lashes, and it brought a bitter-sweet smile to my lips. I felt the bench squeak beside me, and I knew Louis had decided to sit next to me.

His cold, gloveless hands wrapped around my torso, and then he was in my lap. I brought my hands around him quickly, squeezing him into my chest. I couldn't fight the sob that clawed its way up my throat. It felt like I was vomiting up the pain that had settled itself within me, and it felt so good to hold him. He ran his fingers through my hair, and I just held him, nails digging into his ribs.

We didn't speak until my sobs had seized, and the first words he spoke were, "I hope it hurts. I hope it makes you wanna die."

I wheezed, trying to get my breathing to calm, but once he said that, it felt like someone had shoved a high dosage of Pain down my throat. It entered my lungs and set me on fire from the inside out. My body numbed and I just rocked us back-and-forth, telling him, repeatedly, that I wanted to.

"Yeah, you wanna die? How bad does it hurt, hmm? How did it make you feel when I put my hands on her hips and kissed her?" His words were chilling, but they put a fire in my heart. His words let me know that he cared, that he was still hurting and that he wanted to settle the score. His fingers were soothing as they combed through my hair, and it contradicted greatly with his words.

"Hurts so bad." I choked out, "So, so bad, Louis. I'm so s-sorry, I'm so sorry. Please! Pl-please."

"You're begging, but for what?"

I loosened my grip on his ribs, and moved my hands to his shoulders. He pulled back, his eyes looking at mine, "Don't kiss anyone else, please." He shook his head, and I dropped my arms, tossing my head back with a groan. The sky was dull, and white splattered the area, moving and flying and falling. I wiped under my eyes, but I didn't dare look at him, because I couldn't bare seeing him leave me again.

"You don't get to ask me for anything anymore, I don't owe you anything."

"I know, I'm sorry." I rubbed at my face with a heavy sigh, and he got up on his knees, making himself taller and effectively blocking my vision. His face came into view and he cupped my cheeks and leaned in, his lips barley brushing mine.

My eyes fluttered closed as his lips grazed the skin of mine as he spoke. "You said you wanted to die."

"All the time." I mumbled, licking my lips, hardly slipping the tip of my tongue between his parted mouth.

"Then do me a favor."

I grunted, mumbling out a quick, "Yes."

"Kill yourself." And then he was gone, his body leaving mine and his warm breath leaving my lips. His sweet scent left my senses and cleared my head.

I was left to wonder if it all was a dream, but I figured it wasn't, because I smelled like cake, and winter, and Louis. I smelled like a beautiful boy who had just turned thirteen. And, once again, everything hurt.

-

 _Death_.

It comes in many forms, and it all ends the same, right? It can come cloaked in white, pure and peaceful. It can come decked in black, painful and loud. It can come dawned in green, natural and old. Though, no matter what Death is suited in, it always ends the same- with someone losing their life.

But, one thing you need to remember, is that Death can come in red; bright or dark, loud or silent, peaceful or painful.

Red; it resembles that of fire and blood, and is related with energy, war, danger, strength, power, and determination. Red is bold and passionate. Red is desire and love. Red is a very emotionally intense color.

Red increases blood pressure and respiration rate; it's fast and dangerous.

And, I like to believe Death was wearing red when it came for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is now part of the series, "My Hands are Worn, My Heart Is Torn." because there WILL BE a second book.  
> All the love xx.


	12. It's Painful When You Bite My Lip, Because Your Kiss Is Venomous.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...when I think about these things, I have trouble deciphering whether what I feel for him is really love.
> 
> Its pain times one-thousand when I think about his lips. It's salt on an open wound when I remember his laugh. It's bleach sitting in my stomach when I fantasize about the tightness of his body around mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, please Oh My gOD IM SO SORRY!
> 
> I haven't updated in the longest, but writer's block is a bitch and this chapter was difficult to write and I feel like my writing is lacking and it's shitty so this is short. I had three people read over this and they told me it was good, but I don't think it is and I kinda don't want to write because I feel like I'm not any good.
> 
> I have no inspiration or motivation and I want to cry.
> 
> I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry.
> 
> I am determined to finish this book and I already have three chapters of the second book written, so bare with me on this one guys. We're almost there.
> 
> Warning: Suicide attempt.
> 
> All the love guys, xx.
> 
> -
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction, and this is purely fictional. My characters are in no way based off of the boys of One Direction, for their personalities are different. The only thing that my characters have in correlation with the boys, is their appearance. Thank You.

"Love's like an unquenchable thirst. You just, take take take, but you're left unsatisfied." - Me.

-

My eyes were aching, red rimmed and swollen from all of the tears I had shed. I was so tired, and I felt like nothing.

I felt like I was nothing- _something_ that meant so _little_ to the world and the things occupying it.

My lungs were burning and my throat was raw, and the only thing my saddened mind could register was _Death_ .

It coiled around me protectively, pleading for me not to take my own life. It purred into my ear, crooning and running it's bony fingers through my hair, telling me that it'd be alright. It wore red, dark and dashing, and something about that color made it seem more like a victim than I was.

Death made me feel like the enemy- the perpetrator, the thief, the murderer.

It wore red and it's silhouette followed mine like it was my shadow.

I opened my bathroom mirror with shaky fingers and blurred vision, and then I grabbed the first bottle that my hands had managed not to knock over in their hast.

I gripped the small bottle of Ibuprofen, my eyes staring unmovingly at my reflection as I popped the cap. The pills flowed everywhere, ten or so making it into the palm of my hand, while the others spilled over the sink and fell onto the bathroom floor. The sound of the white capsules connecting with the floor echoed in my ears like the loud ring of a gun shot.

Death stared at me in my reflection, it's eyes flashing red. Then, like a flame dying in a candle, it was gone- replaced by my own ghostly face. I looked at myself, stared into my own eyes and saw the emptiness burried within them. I was already so gone it seemed; I was already dead.

My hands shook, the pills rattling within my closed fist. I stared into the vacant green eyes that belonged to none other than myself. My mind was such a wicked thing, for it changed the reflection before me into Louis' beautiful face. He was crying, holding a gun in his hand while pointing it at me. I started to cry harder, clenching my eyes shut tightly and then I whispered a soft apology.

I quickly downed the pills within my hand, choking lightly. I gripped the counter of the sink, drool coming out of the corners of my mouth as the pills went down.

-

_"Make it stop." He begged, "You made it hurt, you have to make it stop."_

_"I don't, I don't know how." I mumbled, a tear of my own falling from my eye. I quickly turned my head, to embarrassed to cry. It wasn't my turn to cry. I wasn't allowed to be sad over something that was my fault, not when the person that I hurt was begging for me to help them._

_"Figure it out!" He snapped, "Make it stop hurting!" He wailed, pushing at my chest and sobbing loudly._

_"Where's it hurt?" I asked him, trying to calm him down. I combed my shaking fingers through his hair, wiping furiously under his eyes as he cried._

_"Ev-everywhere you touched," He wept._

-

Tears were spilling over my eyes, and my head was pounding. I prayed that the pills would kick in faster, because I couldn't withstand the pain that had consumed my body.

Death glared at me, eyes a dark red that was filled with so much remorse and guilt. It's hand reached towards me, touching my shoulder. I felt as it slowly became one with me, reaching for my soul so it could drag it out of my body.

-

_I hesitated, because I didn't exactly know what to do, but then I was quickly grabbing the towel I had set out for Louis and damn-there dragging the boy out of the tub. He kept whimpering and swatting at my hands. His whole body smelled strongly of blood; metallic._

_I quickly covered his shaking and nude body with the towel and dried him off as fast as I could. Once he was dry, I used the towel, wrapping it around his bleeding arm and applying heavy pressure. I kept shushing him, my breathing chaotic and my hands shaking._

_"Fuck!" I cursed, "What'd you do!"_

-

I was sobbing, wailing and hiccuping, my knuckles were white due to how hard I was gripping the edge of my counter. "What'd you do!" I kept screaming, my breathing erratic and my mind falling in and out of reality.

Who knew death was so painful?

-

_"It hurts." He sobbed, and I nodded my head in agreement._

_"I feel trapped. I can feel you, everywhere, on me."_

_"I'm sorry." I fell to my knees, my hands slipping from his shoulders to wrap around his waist as I hid my face in his shoulder._

_"I think you broke me, Harry. I think I'm broken."_

-

I fell to my knees, my chin hitting one of the knobs on the counter drawer, but I didn't feel it. I rested my forehead on the dark wood of my sink, and closed my eyes. I figured it'd go by faster if I fell asleep, but all it did was make the pain intensify.

With my eyes heavy and closed, my breathing erratic, and my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I fell asleep.

-

_My eyes fluttered closed as his lips grazed the skin of mine as he spoke. "You said you wanted to die."_

_"All the time." I mumbled, licking my lips, hardly slipping the tip of my tongue between his parted mouth._

_"Then do me a favor."_

_I grunted, mumbling out a quick, "Yes."_

_"Kill yourself." And then he was gone, his body leaving mine and his warm breath leaving my lips. His sweet scent left my senses and cleared my head._

-

When I woke up, I wasn't burning in the fiery depths of Hell. Instead, I was lying on a hospital bed and my stomach was hurting and my eyes were sore.

A woman in blue scrubs with her blonde hair tied back in a bun, was messing with my IVs when I came to my senses. She smiled at me when she realized I was awake, and I just stared at her unblinkingly.

I was supposed to die.

"Good morning, Mr. Styles." She said politely, releasing my IV and gesturing toward a cup of water on a tray. I nodded at her, my hand shaking as I reached for the cup. My body had been so sore, so worn and tired.

"I'd like to know how you found me."

"We got an anonymous tip that you'd be trying to commit."

My eyes stared intensely at her, and she held my gaze. I swallowed hard, the thought of Louis feeling guilty enough to try and fix what he'd wronged, made my heart flutter a bit.

I turned my head towards the visiting chairs but I didn't see his sleeping form there, and I didn't see my mother or father. Hell, I hadn't even seen my sister.

I was alone, and everything hurt.

Everything always hurt.

"Have I gotten any calls or-"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Styles, but there have been-"

"Stop." I cut her off, "I want to be dismissed as soon as possible, please."

"We pumped your stomach, so you'll be on bed rest for-"

"I can be on bed rest at home." I stated, one of my hands fisting the sheets while the other went to pinch the bridge of my nose. I exhaled harshly, my nostrils flaring.

-

In my life, I've experienced various amounts of pain. I've grown accustomed to the pain of a paper cut, the pain of falling asleep alone, the pain of living without the one thing I want most in my life.

I've endured so much pain- so much pressure has been put on my heart to survive, because I'm barley living at this point.

Out of all the pain I've been through in my life, nothing hurt more than waking up alone in an unfamiliar place after trying to escape the hurt that had consumed me, and not being able to hold Louis.

There was no one at my side that could reassure me that it'd be okay. There wasn't even _a single_ person that gave enough of a _fuck_ to _ask_ if I was okay!

And, I'm telling you now, that not even seeing Louis' crying face as he held a gun with his tiny little finger on the trigger in my own reflection, hurt more than that.

-

The nurse left without another sound, nor word, from me. The first thing I did when she left, was grab the cup of water and fling it across the room. I had released an animalistic growl, my chest rising and falling faster, making the heart monitor beep louder and quicker.

I fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, my eyes falling shut as I tried to calm down. Though, when my eyes closed, I was bombarded with memories I didn't want to remember.

-

_"You don't have the right to even think about me, not after you lied to me, not after you kissed me, and especially not after you forced me to stay the night here."_

_"Louis, please. I-"_

_"What, Harry?" He spat, "You love me? You need me? You can't live without me? Do you like, ever think before you speak? Do you realise how gross you sound when you say shit like that to me?"_

_I didn't like where things were headed, I didn't want to argue with him-- I never meant to hurt him, to be the cause of his anger. "It's not like that, Louis. Love is equal, it knows no boundaries, it-"_

_"That's bullshit, Harry, because, to be quite honest, you scare the living shit out of me." Louis laughed bitterly, his eyes a fire that burned a bright blue. His gaze set me ablaze, lighting me up and scorching me. Sizzling and popping as if I were nothing but oil in a hot pan._

_"I just want to go home." He sighed out after a couple moments of silence, and my gut twisted in a wicked way. I felt sick._

-

I had been sitting on my couch, staring aimlessly at my TV. The pills and alcohol I had just consumed gave my mind a fuzz and my body a buzz. When my hearing slowly started to register the frantic knocking on my door, I shakily stumbled my way into the foyer and to my front door. I pulled it open, my hands shaking around the knob. My vision was blurry and unfocused, and my head was lolling awkwardly as I stared at Amanda. Her mouth fell open, her eyes welled up, and she pulled me into her chest quickly. I grunted, wrapping my arms around her and shushing her with slurred words.

" _Harry!"_ She cried, and my body was so numb and everything hurt so bad that my heart failed to feel any pain at all. I wanted to sympathize with her, to tell her it was okay, but I couldn't. "I'm so sorry, baby." She sobbed.

"Wh-why?" I slurred, pulling away, my bottom lip caught between my teeth.

"I'm sorry that you're hurting. I-I just-" She paused, bringing her wrist up to her mouth and biting at it to stop her sobs. She breathed deeply, and then continued, "Your mother called me, crying and shit, and Harry," She wheezed, " _I'm so sorry._ "

"I'm okay." I told her, giving her a lopsided smile, "I just want to die 's all," When the words slipped from my mouth, she clenched her eyes shut tightly and let out a broken cry. I cooed, rubbing her shoulder, "Don't cry."

"Dammit Harry!" She choked out.

"Shh," I tried, my brows furrowing and a frown forming on my bruised lips, _"Don't cry. We all die eventually."_

_-_

Sometimes, I lie awake at night, and think about the softness of Louis' skin, and the scratchiness of his sweet voice. I think about his small arms wrapped around my waist as we slept. I think about his buoyant laughter and his soaked form when he had spent an entire evening with me and my family.

And, when I think about these things, I have trouble deciphering whether what I feel for him is really love.

Its pain times one-thousand when I think about his lips. It's salt on an open wound when I remember his laugh. It's bleach sitting in my stomach when I fantasize about the tightness of his body around mine.

Missing him is like drinking, but not getting drunk, and I always find myself coming to the conclusion that it's not love at this point. It's a need and a want; it's a craving.

It's an obsession.

Love hurts, and it's not supposed to. Love's supposed to be perfect, joyous and happy. So, when it's anything but what it's supposed to be, how can it be love? How can what I feel for Louis be love? Who's to say it's not a sick obsession that's been influenced by my perverted mind? How can it be love when he told me to kill myself, and I attempted to fulfill his command? How is it love when it always seems to be me that ends up dealing with the sharp end of the blade?

_How can this- what I feel -be love, when it hurts so bad?_


	13. Tap My Shoulder With Your Tiny Finger.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next few weeks passed by me slowly, and it felt as if I had spent the majority of it standing in the cold, wind whipping passed me until I was entirely too numb to be worried about whether the pain in my chest was because I was still heartbroken, or because I was freezing to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guess who's updated. Me, I did.
> 
> This chapter is very emotional, aye I actually cried while writing this. It's very depressing, okay?
> 
> All the love, guys. xx
> 
> Warning: Be sure to re-read those tags, ((:
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction, and my characters are all my own, the only thing they have in relation to the boys of One Direction is their appearance.

"When I first met him, I knew in a moment I would have to spend the next few days re-arranging my mind so there'd be room for him to stay." - Brian Andreas

 -

 "You're so _stupid_ , Harry." Amanda reprimanded me, "You literally _just_ had your stomach pumped, and here you are--" She gestured toward me, "Drunk off your ass."

I laughed, bubbly and drunk, my legs unbalanced and causing me to sway slightly. I leaned my arm on the wall and rested my head on it, trying to balance myself as I continued to giggle.

"This isn't funny, Harry." Amanda frowned, and I instantly stopped laughing. I stared at her, fixing my posture.

"Maybe you should go." I mumbled, dragging myself away from the wall and slumping into my couch. My legs were dangling off of my armrest and my body laid half hazard on my sofa cushions.

"No." She said, crouching next to me and running her nimble fingers through my hair, "I can't leave you. We need to talk."

"Not right now, not until I'm sober." I told her, "I've no idea what I might tell you." I slurred, my words far too quiet for her to hear. She leaned closer, moving her hair and tucking it behind her ear, "Hmm?" She hummed.

"Nothing," I mumbled, pushing her away from me with little to no force. She chuckled, half-assed and humorless.

When she pulled away, sat back on her haunches and just stared at me as I stared at the ceiling, a small part of me wanted to tell her to leave. Though, the biggest part of me feared being alone.

"I'd like to know what you're thinking. I mean, your thoughts must be far from happy, right?"

I turned my head, my eyes slowly zeroing in on her face. I blinked a few times, trying to remove the bleary image of her that had been before me, but it didn't help. She still looked like a mirage, something my drunken mind had conjured up.

"I'm happy." I lied. I lied and she knew that. Her eyes didn't hint at a change in emotion, or maybe I had been too drunk to notice if her features had softened; a clear sign of her being upset, but her forehead creased and she crowned at me. Her eyes stared into mine, not faltering or wavering.

"I once believed you were." She squinted at me, looking deeper it seemed. She stared hard, as if she could see my soul. I felt exposed, bare, and it made me wonder, even in my drunken stupor, if I was the easiest person to read when I was drunk. "You're one of my best friends, H, and you have no idea how it feels to know that I could have helped you had I paid more attention."

"No." I shook my head, "No, because even if you had paid more attention, looked at me as intently as you are now, you never would have guessed it."

She shook her head in defeat, disappointment- maybe even shame. She looked down, looked at her shaking hands and sniffled. I don't like to think that she was crying, because when she looked back up at me, her eyes were watery, but there were no tears.

But, I know she did in fact shed one or two, and maybe they had fallen on her trembling hands and not down her rosy cheeks. "I like to think that I know you better than that- that I'd have known if I had looked at you a little harder."

"Why?" It's a stupid question, I know. But I had spent the last two hours crying drunkenly while holding her because she just couldn't grasp the fact that not everyone wants to live and then die of old age. Not everyone's as happy as they seem, and contrary to popular belief, it's not that hard to fake a genuine smile.

"Because, looking at you now, I know that you're not okay. You haven't been okay in a long time." I nodded my head, agreeing with her. She pressed her lips into a tight line, and continued to stare at me- accessing me, dissecting me and hoping to find whatever truth lied beneath my city of lies.

"I've got a lot of secrets. None of which I am ready to tell." I told her, moving my line of sight toward my ceiling, and then I rolled over, facing the red fabric of my couch and effectively ending our conversation. She huffed, and then I heard the floorboards squeak as she stood up.

"Am I allowed to stay?" She asked me even though she knew the answer. And, it's not that I wanted to be alone, because I didn’t, but it's that I couldn't stand seeing her pained face, her guilty eyes, her shaking hands, her tentative touches, the fact that she looked so out of place in my home, and her sympathy. No. I just- I couldn't handle it.

"No." I said, frowning. She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders probably shaking with it. I let my eyes fall shut when I heard her leave my living room, and by the time she had exited out the front door, I was already falling asleep.

-

When I came to- woke up -my brain felt like it was trying to break through the confines of my skull. Everything was far too loud and far too bright. These obviously were the signs of a hang-over, and to make things worse, my stomach felt like shit.

I wasn't at all surprised when I found myself not even five minutes in to waking up, throwing up the contents of my stomach into my toilet. I rested my head on my left arm, which was slung over the porcelain bowl; totally unsanitary.

I heaved three more times before I felt the slightest bit better, and then I trudged into my kitchen, squinting against the harsh light that was shining in through the window right above my sink. I shut the curtain and poured myself a glass of water, cursed Amanda for throwing out all of my pills, because I really needed a pain pill, and then I sauntered my way back into my bedroom. 

The pain in my chest failed to ease, even after the pounding in my head did. I wrapped myself up in my duvet, the sheets still smelled faintly of Louis. The room felt as if it had been occupied by his presence only minutes prior to my trip to the kitchen. My knees were digging into my chest and my nails were biting into the skin on the side of my knees. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, inhaled deeply, the pain in my chest flaring up as my lungs expanded, and then I was sobbing.

It felt like my room was burning, ignited in bright flames that licked at every edge and smooth curve of my room. The flames burned blue, hot and bright, flickering around and growing in height. Then, like the force of cold wind on a hot flame, the fire was gone. It cooled and calmed and stilled until it failed to burn at all. My pillow case was damp with tears and the noises that were falling from lips and into my once quiet room were soft, yet oh so broken.

I prayed that the fire that once flared hotly within my room wouldn't grow to burn within me, but my prays were not answered. My body temperature went up, my lungs failed to work properly; punching the air in and out of me as if I had been winded by a blow to the chest. I wheezed, choking on the fire that was flaring up inside of me.

I had thought that the fire Louis had put inside me, had long since disappeared, but I figured not. Because I laid there, in my bed, curled around my sheets with the sweet scent of Louis filtering through my heavy lungs, and I felt like I was on fire.

I cried myself to sleep that night, blue flames setting me alight.

-

"Hey," Amanda greeted me as I trudged into the diner, and I simply waved at her and headed into the back. I refused to work up front, just in case Louis decided to show up- or even worse, his mother.

But, I've never been one to have good luck, and things rarely go my way, so it was no wonder my boss ended up making me work the register. Apparently I hadn't worked it in over a week.

"H?" Amanda tapped my shoulder and I turned around. She was standing behind me with a dish towel in her hand; she was on dish duty. I hummed, raising my eyebrows in inquiry.

"You okay?" Her lips were pulled into a deep frown and her brows were furrowed. She wiped at her hands, even though they were dry. I guess it was just a nervous gesture.

"I will be." I told her, hoping that my words held some truth to them, but even I had found my words hard to believe.

"I'm here, if you need me- if you ever want to t--"

"I know, but I highly doubt you'd understand and I'd rather keep my problems my own." I didn't mean to sound so dismissive, but I knew that my tone and attitude had given away the idea that I no longer sought help nor confidence in her.

I should have stopped her when she turned around. I should have apologized, but I didn't.

-

It’s easy to lose someone close to you when you’re speaking out of spite, frustration, or exhaustion- and it’s definitely easy to lose someone when you’re speaking out of all three.

I’m usually not one to speak out of turn, I know how to bite my tongue and think before I speak. But, I can’t promise not to catch an attitude when I’m mentally, emotionally, and physically tired. I can only try my hardest not to say something hurtful, but if I do, I can only ask for you to understand and forgive me. 

When I told Amanda, practically the only friend I had, that I didn’t want to share with her what was troubling me, she must have figured that I didn’t trust her. After I said what I said, she chose to let me handle whatever evil thoughts were plaguing my mind, alone. After all, I told her that my problems were my own.

I tried speaking to her, I tried apologizing, but she failed to see where I was coming from. And, for this, I’ll never be able to say sorry enough for pushing away the only person that was by my side when I was at my worst.

-

Work was horrible, it was so bad that I contemplated quitting a job that I not only loved, but had been working at for years. Amanda refused to acknowledge my existence, and it felt as if I was truly alone in the world. The earth is far too big, far too wide, far too occupied for me to be alone- but that’s how it felt.

I had no one to lean on when I couldn’t keep myself up because my thoughts were to heavy and they weighed me down. I had no one to cry to when my chest was flaring up in blue flames that made it hard for me to breathe. I had no one to laugh with on a good day, when Louis’ smiling face was the only thing to haunt me instead of his tear-stained cheeks.

-

I was wiping off the counters and the tables, the day nearing its end. The sky was dark outside, midnight blue, and it reminded me of the way Louis’ eyes looked when the sun fell and the house was dark. They glowed a velvet shade, with an almost sea blue surrounding his pupils.

He was like the moon, glowing bright even on my darkest night. And, even when the moon failed to appear, hidden behind the clouds, his eyes were a sure indication that there’d always be some source of light in my life.

I’m not sure if he's my moon anymore, though.

-

I threw the towel over my shoulder, and stared at the table one more time, before deeming it clean enough. The door chimed, and I raised my head to see who had walked into the diner, my chest loosening without my knowledge that it had even grown tight, as my mother shuffled inside.

She waved at me, a lopsided smile gracing her soft pink lips. She stood right in front of the door, no doubt in my mind that the cold air had been the reason for the trembling of her body. She was bundled up in a long brown button-up coat, a hat pulled down on her head, and a scarf thrown loosely around her kneck.

I smiled back at her, my eyes filling up quickly with tears that I had no intention on shedding. When she seen the shaky breath that I took in, when her eyes tracked the movement of my shaking shoulders and the slight downturn of my lips, she was rushing toward me, arms open wide. She pulled me into a tight embrace that was the least bit comforting, I felt as if I was suffocating in her hold.

She smelt so _good_ , smelt like a childhood I had long since forgotten since I had moved away at the young age of eighteen. My arms were trapped at my sides, and my chest felt tight, and the tears that I had promised myself not to shed, fell silently down my cheeks. I breathed in the welcoming smell of my mother, relaxed slightly in her embrace, and tried not to think about the horrible things that were probably plaguing her mind.

“How didn’t-Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you-just, think- think about me, _us_?” My mother’s voice shouldn’t sound like glass cutting its way inside of my head, but it had. It had, and it hurt- hurt to know I had disappointed her.

“I’m _sorry._ ” I wheezed, squirming in her hold and trying to free my arms from where they were trapped at my sides. She only hugged me a little tighter, refusing to let me go.

“It’s- Come home.” She said, “Come _home,_ Harry. It’s not good here, _you’re_ not good here.” She loosened her grip, hands moving to card through my hair. Once my arms were freed, I wrapped them around her small frame, face buried in the fabric of her scarf, and sobbed. “Just- _come home_.”

“Home,” I breathed, my whole body aching because I didn’t want to go to my mother’s house, because it wasn’t home to me.

-

Home is Louis.

Home is Louis’ arms, home is Louis’ good morning smile, home is making Louis a cup of tea in the comfort of my kitchen while he talks animatedly about God knows what. Home is his smile, his eyes, and his lips. Home is the feel of his bare legs rubbing against mine as he curls his body around mine as we sleep. Home is Louis’ voice: loud with excitement, quiet with embarrassment, soft with sadness, sweet with fondness, and rough with anger. Louis is home, and I wanted nothing more in my life in that moment than to go home.

-

“Yes, baby,” Her touch was starting to become a very prominent ache within me, agitating the calm, yet sure fire inside of my chest. “Harry?” She whispered, and I shook my head where it was resting on her shoulder. My head was starting to hurt, and everything was sore around the edges of my brain. 

Every thought hurt, every touch burned, every breath felt as if it would be my last.

“Harry.” She tried again, this time her voice was firmer. No longer was she asking for my attention, she was demanding it. I nodded my head, huffing out a breath; throat too hoarse, too sore, too tight to actually form words.

“You’ll come home, right?” I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, and shook my head no.

-

Dear Reader,

I’ve wet the pages within this book far too many times, rested my head on these cool sheets of paper and sobbed until the pain in my heart eased to nothing but a dull ache. I’ve closed this book one too many times when my words seemed to fail me, when my hands couldn’t stop shaking, when the events that took place in my past even scared me- terrified me to the point of having to wait weeks before actually building up the courage to write them down.

I’ve gone to church; you know?

I’ve stayed after hours just to cry and pray with the priest, and no matter how many times he’s told me that our God is a forgiving one, I’ll never quite believe it.

I’ve dedicated my free time to reading up on what’s wrong with me, and I’ve come across the same old shit every time. And, it’s not like I haven’t done research on my sexual fixation before, but I had decided to delve a little deeper. Yet, every time, I end up reading the same stuff.

Pedophilia isn’t wrong, okay, but it’s not morally right, either? But It’s not like I can just wake up one day and decide to stop liking what I like, as it’s not a choice. I have no say in the matter, but what I do have control over, is whether or not I choose to act upon my desires. No matter how strong they are, I’m to be responsible, reasonable, honest, and trustworthy- I’m to stay a pedophile, but never a molester, rapist, _or a monster._

Now that I’ve put it down on paper and read it over again at least five times, it seems pretty easy. It seems pretty easy to just go about my life without falling in love with a child, without touching one, without wanting one of my own. It seems pretty damn easy, right? It’s not.

How many of you fear that you’ll touch your kid because your head wasn’t screwed on right? How many of you fear walking into a bakery, an ice-cream parlor, or just walking outside, because there's a chance that you migh run into a child, and you just might get hard? How many of you fear falling asleep at night because you know that you can’t run away from your dreams because you _like_ them- because you _want_ to dream about having sex with a child? How many of you fear living, breathing, _surviving_ , because you feel you’re a problem to society?

If- if you do, if you do fear these things I want you to know that you’re not alone, that I’ll be waiting for you when our times comes and we both meet our demons. I want you to know that you may be a monster, but there is no monster scarier than me. I want you to know that I’m impeccably proud of you if you’ve managed living your life without ruining a child’s, and I also want you to know that even if you’ve done the things that I have -- even if you’ve done _worse_ than what I have -- I’m still proud of you.

Proud of you for making it as far as you did before succumbing to your inner evil and latching onto the nearest victim like I had.

I just want you to know, reader, that I’m not a bad person, but I’m not good either. I’m also definitely not somewhere in between. I want you to know that I’m human, that I’m not normal, but I’m natural. I rely on my instincts when they’re stronger than what’s right or wrong.

There’s this quote, this quote that I can’t quite remember whether or not I’ve already written in this book, but I feel the need to write it, so I will. And, maybe after reading this, you’ll understand it’s meaning.

"As people, we tend to blame ourselves for actions that we commit, that we know are wrong. As people, we have self-control, but once we step out of our comfort zones, once we give in slightly to temptation- it's hard to gain control over our actions...and as people, that's okay." - Anonymous.

-

My house was cold, it was cold and dark and it was lacking _that feeling-_ that feeling of contemptment. It lacked to feel filled, it lacked energy, it lacked emotion. The only thing it wasn’t lacking in, was space. My house felt empty, felt as if there was too much space- space that should’ve been filled with Louis.

His small fingerprints were still on my window, his laughter still echoed along my hallways, his spirit still haunted my room, and his touch still wafted through the house like a cold chill. But it was still lacking his voice, his feet- pattering against the floorboards. It lacked his shoes- strewn across the area of my living room and my bedroom, it lacked his clothes and my shirts- scattered across the entire flat.

I ventured further into my house, leaving the lights off, and relying solely on the moon’s light to guide me into my kitchen. I made myself a cup of tea, and when I realized I was making tea instead of coffee, my hands started shaking. Though, I didn’t stop.

I made a cup of tea, just the way Louis liked it, and then I just stared at it. I prayed silently that the pitter-patter sound of his tiny feet would reach my ears, just before he ran into my back, arms going around my waist, face pressed into my spine.

It never came, though. So, I did the only logical thing there was, and poured the cuppa down the drain. And maybe my cheeks were wet by the time the cup was empty, and maybe I stumbled into my room drunk on love, and heartache, and _Louis._

And, maybe I stared up at my ceiling, waiting for Louis to tap my shoulder, a silent plea for me to roll over onto my side so he could spoon me, and when that didn’t happen, I sobbed myself to sleep. So utterly fucking cold and alone, so awfully fucking broken, so pitifully in love, so pathetically _hurt_.

Hurt because Louis wasn’t next to me, but his everything still appeared at the forefront of my mind. So hurt because my love for him burned blue within my entire body until it felt like I had glass running through my veins. So hurt because I was so stupidly in love- I’m _still_ so stupidly in love.

And it hurts, it hurts every night that I fall asleep staring at my ceiling in hopes that he’ll tap my shoulder.

-

When I woke up in the morning, the first thought on my mind was the way it felt hearing Louis’ sickly sweet voice say my name, and I felt so physically sick that I rushed to my bathroom. I heaved, and gagged, and spluttered, but nothing ever came up. Nothing came up but spit and tears and sobs. I clutched at my chest, nails biting into my skin, and I thought about the pills that Amanda had thrown out because she wanted me _alive_ she wanted me _safe_ she wanted me to just _keep breathing._

She wanted me to be okay, but I wasn’t okay. How could I be okay?

I sobbed over my toilet bowl, waiting for Louis’ voice to leave my head, to stop floating inside my ears like the sweetest symphony to ever exist. I placed my palms over my ears, fingers curling over the shell, and I screamed until my voice fell silent and my jaw started to hurt.

And then, only then did my stomach lurch and the pain in my chest fade. Only then did Louis’ voice fail to echo my name, and only then did the fire within me flare its hottest, burning me and scorching me to the point that it felt _real_. It didn’t feel like a metaphorical fire, it felt like if I were to chance a look at my arms, I’d see burn marks.

Then, the pain left like the wind, pushing itself out of every single one of my pores.

I curled up into a tight ball, and fell onto my side on my cold tiled floor. My body was convulsing, and my eyes were trained on my tub. I felt dizzy, lost, confused. I saw blood flowing over the sides of the tub, but my body felt too heavy, and I was so okay with drowning in blood and water. I wheezed, hearing the slicing of skin so distinctly, hearing Louis’ soft cries, hearing his pleas for me to stop- to just _stop._

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled, body exhausted, heart deteriorating, and body sinking into the floor until it felt as if my skin was glued to it. “I’m so fucking sorry it hurts.”

-

Wanting to die really sucks, but knowing that taking your own life is kind of selfish, is kind of selfish in its own- isn’t it? Why should I feel guilty if I want to die, what gives anyone the right to make me feel like the bad guy for killing myself? I should be allowed to shoot myself in the head without backing out due to guilt. But, it wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to my mother, my sister, the people close to me- the people that mean something to me, because they have no clue _why_ I want to die.

And, it definitely wouldn’t be fair to Louis, because he’s still alive, dealing with his problems. It’d be selfish of me to take my own life without his consent, right? I mean, shouldn’t he have a say in whether or not I’m allowed to go out the easy way, whether or not he wants to kill me, whether or not he wants me to suffer as much as he is? 

And, I’m pretty sure the biggest part of him wants me to die, as he once told me to kill myself, but then he saved me--? He took it back, and in that way, I’m sure that he changed his mind; he wants me to wait for Death to take me out properly, because dying is a sure thing- a promise.

-

My mind was gone, sanity completely lost. I stared into the blue eyes before me, reflection disoriented as Louis’ eyes stared back at me. I gripped the counter a little tighter, clenched my jaw a little harder, and just waited until my reflection changed- until my eyes stopped playing tricks on me.

Louis’ eyes were sad, and pain was such a vibrant blue ring that encompassed the majority of his eyes. His skin was pale, deep and dark circles surrounded his eyes, and for the first time in my life, I was sure that the darkness under his eyes wasn’t from the shadow of his lashes. I swallowed hard, and he mimicked me.

I blinked once, slowly, and when my eyes opened again, his appearance changed. His hair was no longer a soft fringe that framed his face, but a high quiff that made his cheekbones more prominent. He had eyeliner on underneath his bright eyes, and I watched as a single tear fell from his eye.

And then more were falling, and it didn’t take me long to notice that I too, was crying. I looked down, staring at the drain of my sink, and watched as my tears slowly made their way down it. I curled a fist around the glass of my mirror, and when I looked back up, I was staring into a pair of dark green eyes. My lips were parted, and my nose was red, and I just stared.

“Where’ve you gone, Louis? Why’d you leave me?” I sniffled, chest rising and falling quickly. Anger flared up inside of my chest, and the fire within me grew hotter. “I said I was sorry,” I nearly screamed, punching my mirror. Glass shattered around me, piercing the skin of my knuckles and falling into my sink, on my counter, and some of it fell onto the floor. I huffed, too much adrenalin was rushing through my veins, so thick it made it hard to breathe, hard to concentrate.

“I said I loved you, and I took care of you, and I fucking _treasured_ you.” I wheezed, the pain in my hand was no match for the pain in my heart, “And you just, you fucking left me with the world’s worst goodbye.”

 _He teased me with a kiss, thighs bracketing mine, and then he told me to kill myself_.

-

He said goodbye in the worst way, yet it felt so good because it was _Louis_. It was Louis’ voice, and Louis’ thighs, and Louis’ lips, and it was Louis’ goodbye.

It was Louis, but it hurt because he was literally making me delusional- he was making me crazy. So fucking crazy, and I promise you, nothing feels better than going crazy because of Louis.

-

I sighed, the anger leaving me, only to be replaced with depression. Yeah, that’s what this was, that’s what my whole relationship with Louis had been- a fucking horrific, beautiful, painful depression.

-

The next few weeks passed by me slowly, and it felt as if I had spent the majority of it standing in the cold, wind whipping passed me until I was entirely too numb to be worried about whether the pain in my chest was because I was still heartbroken, or because I was freezing to death.

I went to work, Amanda avoiding me steadily until I had completely forgotten that we were once friends. Of course we still talked, but she never asked about me and I never bothered to wonder if she even cared about me anymore.

Our friendship was all to fragile anyways, especially if the only reason why she had dropped me was because I refused to tell her what was troubling me because I knew she wouldn’t understand, as I’m sure that not even you understand me.

I still found myself waiting for Louis at night, and I still made a cup of tea sometimes when I longed for him too much, when I missed him so much that it felt as if he were there. I still dreamt of him when my eyes failed to stay open some nights, and I always woke up with the thought of him on my mind.

It all became normal at some point, expected even. The pain in my heart soon dulled, and the constant string of Louis’ named failed to give me headaches as it played on loop within my mind.

I stopped crying at some point, not entirely, I mean--? I still cry over him when it gets too much, because at some point it always builds up until I’m left dry heaving over my toilet, and sobbing into my pillow. But, I stopped crying every day, and I stopped wanting to be okay, and I stopped contacting people.

I stopped paying my phone bill, I stopped checking my e-mails, I stopped not wanting to be alone and just excepted the fact that I was. I needed to be alone because no one would ever compare to Louis, no one’s company would ever be good enough.

I stopped living, is the thing. Sometimes I would just sit in silence, and I’d hold my breath in hopes that I’d pass out long enough to think I was dead, just for a little bit. I relied on my job at the diner, and the dark and emptiness of my home. I relied on the fingerprints Louis left on my window, just to remind myself that he was real, and that I was hurting this much over something real.

Over Louis.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and then my birthday passed- and I spent it alone, crying into my pillow because two months ago Louis had told me to kill myself on _his_ birthday. It hurts, because it had only been two months after his goodbye, but it still hurt so much.

My birthday passed, and then another two months passed.

It was April, and I was crying into my sheets after just waking up. My skin was on fire and I was hard, so hard over a dream, over a thought, over a ghost- over Louis. I had curled a fist around myself, squeezed my shaft twice, thumbed over my slit three times, and then I stroked once, and I was coming.

I cried myself back to sleep, and prayed that Louis’ perfection wouldn’t come to haunt me again- but, of course, it did.

-

“I ordered a chocolate _glazed_ doughnut, this isn’t glazed.” The old woman pointed at her treat again, and I internally rolled my eyes.

“We’re all out of glazed doughnuts, ma’am.”

“Yes, and it’s because you gave _my_ glazed doughnut away, even though I was here before them.” She huffed, and she looked about ready to hit me with her purse.

I pursed my lips, “I’m sorry. I don’t see why that isn’t good enough though, just glaze it at home or summat.”

“Listen here, young man, I ordered a _glazed_ doughnut! I think I’m very deserving of on-"

“I’m not saying you aren’t, ma’am, I’m just saying that we’re out.”

The old woman huffed, crossing her arms. I gave her an unimpressed look, and she just snatched her doughnut up into her frail little hands, and threw it at me before leaving the restaurant. I furrowed my eyebrows, picking up the fallen doughnut and throwing it away. When I returned to the register, there were two very familiar looking boys staring back at me.

One was a blonde with blue eyes, not nearly as blue and pretty as Louis’. He had on all black and a piercing in his eyebrow. The other boy was darker than the blonde, a lot darker being that the blonde was pale as Hell. The other boy had dark brown eyes and long lashes, not nearly as perfect as Louis’, though. He had raven colored hair, and was wearing an all too familiar band-tee.

“What can I do for you boys?” I asked them, and they shrugged.

“Two French vanilla coffees, a tea, and one of those weird desserts. Um,” The blonde turned to his friend, “What’s that one thing Louis likes?” The other boy shrugged, as if to say ‘I don’t know’.

My chest tightened at the mention of his name, but I ignored it. I had to ignore it.

“Just give us something sweet, man. I don’t know.” The blonde said, and I hummed, because I knew exactly what Louis liked. And, even though these boys hadn’t told me how to make the tea that they’d ordered, I knew. I knew because I had been making a cup almost every night since we parted.

Once I rung them up, and they’d paid for their goods, it didn’t take long for their stuff to be set down on the counter. I found myself looking outside the glass doors in hopes of spotting Louis, and when I saw a soft caramel colored fringe peeking out beneath a red beanie, a tiny pixie-like nose, and long lashes shadowing sharp cheeks, I knew I had found him. He was staring at his phone, texting someone probably. His tiny pink tongue swiped over his lips quickly, and then he was pocketing his phone and looking up.

His eyes caught mine, as if he felt me staring at him. His brows furrowed, and I tilted my head, forcing my eyes to stop staring into his. I ran my nimble fingers through my hair, smiled at the two boys before me, and watched as they left.

I didn’t want to see the way Louis’ eyes watered slightly when he seen the treat that was in the bag the raven haired boy was carrying, but I had. He obviously hadn’t ordered that, he obviously had told the boys to get him something else. He probably asked for a regular black tea as well, but I went ahead and made his tea exactly how he liked it, and I got him his favorite snack.

It shouldn’t have made his eyes fill up with tears, it shouldn’t have made him stalk away from his friends as fast as he had, it shouldn’t have hurt.

But, then again, everything about Louis hurt, right?

-

Dear Reader,

Do you remember that quote, that quote that I told you should make sense by the time this was over?

Well, we’re nearing our end, can you feel it?

I’m asking you now, reader, do you understand it? Does it make sense to you?

Because, it makes perfect sense to me, as I write this now, face wet with tears, body trembling with the need to _touch,_ to press up close to Louis until neither of us are sure what’s me and what’s him. It makes sense to me as my hands tremble around my writing utensil, as my thighs tremble with the need to feel Louis’ legs curved to fit behind mine. My abdomen clenches with the need to feel his arms wrapped around me, and my lips hurt with the sheer thought of what his lips felt like on mine.

I’m just- I’m so lost, right now, and sometimes I don’t want to be found. Sometimes I want to stay needing him until it feels like he’s there, until his ghost settles up close to me and soothes the ache within me.

If I hadn’t given in to temptation, maybe I wouldn’t be writing this right now, right? But, it’s okay that I did, it’s okay because I’m only human, and there’s only so much that you can do, only so much time you have before it gets too hard to resist.

And, God, _please_ , tell me that that’s _okay_?


	14. How Do You Say Goodbye?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Twin Soul, an alternate plane, an expansion to the life we live, a solar flare, a black hole in the universe that excels in destroying everything except for two halves of one whole spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this story is coming to its official end. There is one last chapter after this, but since I'm a lovely person, this is a double update. So, this book is officially over.
> 
> This chapter is rushed because at this point, Harry's emotions are everywhere, the style is sloppy on purpose in this chapter because Harry's fitting last minute details into this chapter and he's jotting down things that he believes are important for the reader to know even though most of what's said in this chapter is just info you guys already know. 
> 
> Imagine you're actually reading a diary, and this is one of those pages that's sloppy as Hell. :')
> 
> Please, don't complain about the mistakes, I'm going to be editing this entire book before I even think about putting up the second book, and sorry if the spacing is out of whack idk wtf is wrong with ao3 rn.
> 
> BTW, I have four completely edited chapters to the 2nd book written already :')
> 
> \- I love you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction, this is some serious fanfiction. Bye. Read the tags & be safe.

"To those who say love is free: No, it can't be, when with loving you there's always a price to pay." - N.A.M.

-

Three years- that’s roughly 1095 days, 157 weeks, and 36 months.

Out of those 1095 days I have spent every waking moment thinking about Louis.

Out of 157 weeks my eyes have not fallen on Louis’ silhouette.

Out of 36 months my body has not come in contact with his skin.

The only time I have seen him is in my dreams, the only time I have gotten close to touching him is when I dare to trace the fingerprints he’s left on the surfaces of my house.

He’s like a ghost, reader. He lives in my walls, with every hand print he’s left on the corners of my home when he was racing through the halls in nothing but his socks—gripping the nearest corner to keep his balance as I chased him up and down the halls. He lives in my throw blankets, and the smell of his wet hair after he had gotten out of the shower lingers on my pillows—the smell of my shampoo and something akin to Louis is on every pillow and sheet within my home.

He lives in my room, where he rested his head on my bed, where he made funny faces in my mirror and dressed himself in my clothes. He lives in my yard, in the green grass that he trampled on in his bare feet.

He lives in all of these things and so much more, so much more. Louis haunts ever curve, every edge, every surface, and every crevice of my house as if it belonged to him. His taste lingers on the edge of every coffee cup where he placed his lips when he was drinking tea. His stare lingers on the TV where he’d watch his favorite cartoons. His smile hides within my closet, where he’d crinkle his eyes and flush a pretty pink as he’d throw on one of my button-ups.

For three years, Louis has been living with me inside of my home, and within my heart. Yet, he fails to be here. He fails to race through my halls, small feet running along my floors like a drum, but he’s left a mark on every wall in my house. He fails to beg me to make him a cup of tea every morning, but I can’t deny the fact that the box of Yorkshire tea in my cupboard is his.

I’ve read up on Twin Souls, the legend that we were all born as one whole soul, one whole being, that got split up into two—making everyone one half of a whole. It’s said that you spend your whole life trying to find your other half, and most of the time you meet your soul mate in odd circumstances, and what’s an odder circumstance than Louis’ and I’s?

I’m not saying that me and Louis are two halves of one whole or that soulmates are real, but if alternate universes are real, then maybe me and Louis are soulmates in one of them.

-

“You- What?” My boss asked again, incredulous. I shook my head, one of my hands coming up to rub at my temples. I closed my eyes, the onset of a headache becoming very present.

“I quit.” I repeated, “I need time- to figure stuff out in my lif-"

“I was willing to give you a two month leave, you’re the one who refused it, Harry.” Jeffrey, my old boss, stated. He huffed, shuffling his feet and wringing his hands out before decidedly stuffing them in his pockets.

“I don’t want a leave, Jeff. I need to qu-"

“You don’t need to do anythi-"

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t cut me off every time I tried to speak.” I glared at him, “You obviously don’t understand- no one understands.” I sighed, running my hand through my hair and furrowing my brows at him. He crumpled under my stare, eyes softening as the energy left his body in a fluid motion.

“Fine, it’s obvious that I can’t change your mind about this.” Jeff told me, “But, before you go, Harry-“ He grabbed my arm and looked up at me, “I want you to know that me and everyone else here, has been trying to understand.” I nodded my head, ready to go home. I expected him to let go of my arm as I went to turn away from him, but when he tightened his grip and I looked back at him, his mouth was already moving. “We can’t understand, or help you, if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

I pursed my lips, the new information made my stomach twist uncomfortably. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to shout it from the rooftops that I was madly in love with a child that made me crazy- that made me depressed, but I couldn’t.

I couldn’t, so I walked away.

-

“…My heart is waiting to figure it out.  
Throw me something,  
Help me turn it around.  
What do we do when we're out of control?  
My hands are worn.  
My heart is torn…” – Butterfly Boucher, It Pulls Me Under.

-

Loud.

Loud like the color of Louis’ eyes, the taste of his skin, the press of his lips, the curve of his waist, the dip in his back, the fragility of his hands, the daintiness of his ankles, the flow of his hair, the flick of his fringe, the length of his lashes.

Loud.

Loud like the sound of his voice, the fall of his sweet sweet serenade, the caress of his laugh, the melody in the way he sang, “Harry,” or the harmony in the way he breathed, “Hazz.”

Loud.

My house was both loud in his appearance, in the volume in which he carried himself and loud in his tone of voice, in the way he said things, in the way his vocal chords uttered a single sound from his person.

The volume of my house never failed to give me a headache.

It was as if no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape him- I still can’t escape him, not that I’d want too anyways. Though, I’d prefer it if I could forget about him for at least a second, but a second is far too long to forget how to breathe, how to live.

You see, Reader, no matter how many times I say it, I always feel the need to re-endorse information to you. Louis is the reason I am still breathing, now. He is the only thing worth surviving for, so if I were to forget him, I’d forget how to function, and that just won’t do.

-

I was sitting in my living room, my stereo on, and the volume all the way up. The song It Pulls Me Under by Butterfly Boucher was playing which is one of my favorite songs. I had a flask in one of my hands, filled to the brim with a dark champagne while I hummed along to the lyrics.

Louis’ Winnie the Pooh towel was bundled up in my arms, soft fabric practically glued to my chest where I clutched it almost protectively. It didn’t smell like Louis anymore, and it didn’t harbor a very good memory, but it was the only belonging of Louis’ that he had left behind.

I buried my nose in the fabric, inhaling deeply. My arms started to shake, my chest tightened, and my breath hitched. I tried not to spill the contents within my flask, as it was pressing into the material of the towel. I set the cup down so I could grip the small plush-like towel tighter in both hands. Once my glass was on the coffee table and I was seated comfortably on my couch, I allowed myself to relax.

I thumbed at the ear on the towel; plush yellow fabric that held so much sentimental value it almost made my heart collapse.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to curl up into a ball and sob his name into the yellow towel until I forgot how to pronounce it. I wanted to drink as many bottles of alcohol as I possibly could until my heart seized to love him any longer, until my heart didn’t even recognize such an emotion.

But, I didn’t.

I just basked in my calm surroundings, fingers stroking at the only token I had left of Louis as I listened to some music. And, try as I might, I’ll never be able to deny the fact that I was anything but as calm as I appeared. On the inside my mind was running amuck, too many memories to just pick one and jot it down, too many words and conversations were shared, too many ‘I love you’s were whispered, and too many tender touches were exchanged.

I could sit here and fill up every page within this book about everything that I feel, have felt, did, have done, and so much fucking more when it comes to him- when it comes to Louis –and it still would never be enough.

I’d never be able to explain in full how passionate I am for him- for his youthfulness, his innocence, his kindness, his demeanor, his talk, his way of moving, his absolute perfection, his personality; the person that he is.

I could tell you now, that the book I write to you in, the pages that you are reading from now, have been hand sewed into this book. That I sat and I painted the front and back of this and then stitched the spine together out of nothing but complete love and honest devotion.

I could tell you that everything I do is symbolic, that is has purpose, when it comes to Louis. I could tell you that, I _am_ telling you that, but it’s up to you to believe me.

The only proof I have of these words, is the fact that the cover of this book was painted in never clashing, blending, or mixing shades of green and blue. Shades that remind me of Louis’ eyes, of the fire that he put inside of me.

They’re a whole new constellation within the stars; a forever familiar hue of blue that screams his name in the loudest of tones, deep brogues, accents, and pitches.

The green’s like a whole new world, dark like moss, lime like the fruit, dark like the soul, and as meaningful as the Earth.

They simply interact, overlapping lines that are the key to two sets of eyes, two hearts, two minds, two bodies, and one soul.

One Twin Soul, an alternate plane, an expansion to the life we live, a solar flare, a black hole in the universe that excels in destroying everything except for two halves of one whole spirit.

Louis and I.

Me and Louis.

Louis and Harry.

Harry and Louis.

I don’t care how you say it. But if you don’t believe me, then the only proof that I have to prove myself with is that every word I have written in this book is true and nothing but my heart’s complete honesty. This book was bound by my own two hands, painted by own fingers, and it holds all of my secrets.

You can leave here now, Reader, you can go and take what you will from this- from me. But I ask that you leave here in understanding.

We can agree that I’m the monster here; the antagonist, the criminal, the perpetrator- but I am also a victim.

I’ve been a victim my whole life to something that I have no control over.

You’re going to fall in life, you’re going to crash and burn, and sometimes you’ll burn in a fire that lights you up from the inside out. I refuse to be angry with anyone who chooses to give up because Heaven knows that I’ve surpassed the definition of giving up, but I’ll be forever angry with you for not trying to understand.

-

“…We stand, we stand, we can't stand to fall down.  
Here comes another,  
It pulls me under.  
Don't pull me under…” – Butterfly Boucher, It Pulls Me Under.

-

Dear Reader,

I no longer have any more words to say, for my story has finished.

I’ve lost the love of my life, my own family, my best friend, and my job.

I’ve lost it all in the name of a Forever that I have not been granted yet, but I’ll wait for an infinite amount of eternities until I get it.

I don’t feel the need to continue on with my present day life, for this book’s sole purpose was to rid myself of my demons- of my secrets.

I have shared with you the tragic love-story between two halves of one complete soul.

We met in a circumstance that didn’t allow us to be together; that forced us apart.

But who knows what the future entails.

\- Harry E. Styles.


	15. This Book Is A Love Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He is soft; standing 5'2 in my hoodie and his boxer briefs. He is delicate and fragile, a work of art that is far better than a masterpiece, and shouldn't be labeled as such. He shouldn't be labeled at all. He is more than perfection, because perfection is but an opinion. He is fact. He is truly beautiful- indescribably so._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank every single fucking one of you. Please, oh my God.
> 
> It's over. This is it.
> 
> I'm crying.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> I love you.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One fucking Direction. This is a fanfic. 
> 
> Read the tags because I love you, be safe.
> 
> All the love. xx

"You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You were the worst thing that ever happened to me. You were flawless, perfect. You were a flower; hopelessly beautiful, and with every curve and twist we fit together like a crooked jigsaw puzzle. You had a way of moving, of laughing, of resting your head on your knees to hide the tears, of smiling in a way that made me fall apart. Every single thing you did was a work of art." - N.A.M.

-

Louis.

He's sweet, gentle, and open-minded. He'd never judge anyone- he never judged me, or told me hated me.

Louis.

His laugh sounds like your favorite song, and it is my favorite song. His smile makes my heart hurt and my eyes water, he's brighter than the sun and it hurts to look at him. His eyes are bluer than the sky and prettier than the Heavens.

Louis.

His hips fit the curve of my hands and his figure was made just for mine. He tickles my neck with his deep breaths in his sleep as he holds me close to his chest. His small arms hold me tight and keep me together when I'm falling apart.

Louis.

Perfect. He is perfect, and so utterly broken. I broke him. I took and took and took, and my boy- Louis - had nothing left to give.

That boy was never mine, he was never mine to kiss and to love. His lips never belonged to me and he never longed for the touches I gave him.

He ignited a fire inside of me, a craving, and I loved him.

_I love him._

I love him so much it hurts- wait _no_ , he takes all of the hurt away. I love him so much, in his presence, all of the pain dissipates for a moment.

I love him and I'm not sorry for that.

I'm sorry, though. I'm sorry for breaking a boy who once looked at the world without fear. I'm sorry for the scars permanently etched into his skin and into his heart. I'm sorry for the bruising I left on his hips that may have faded, but never disappeared. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I _so so so_ sorry, and I can't say it enough.

Louis, he was never mine, and he never wanted to be.

Louis.

He is soft; standing 5'2 in my hoodie and his boxer briefs. He is delicate and fragile, a work of art that is far better than a masterpiece, and shouldn't be labeled as such. He shouldn't be labeled at all. He is more than perfection, because perfection is but an opinion. He is fact. He is truly beautiful- indescribably so.

Louis.

He is tiny; weighing only 108 pounds. Young he is, with his age being the first number to sound out 'teen'--thirteen. So small, courageous and ready for action. He looks at the world with an open-mind and views people with an open-heart.

Louis.

He is smart, intelligent, brilliant. He is capable of achieving anything he wants and getting anything he needs. Anything but ignorant, is he.

Mine.

He is not mine, and it's something that I've come to realize as I was writing this book.

Louis is his own person, and he is not mine. Nothing is mine, I own nothing but the skin on my bones and the hair on my head.

It's been three years, not a long time, but long enough. I haven't seen Louis, in three years, and it hurts still. My precious boy- Louis, the precious boy, is now sixteen.

I’ll leave this book on your doorstep, and I’ll knock on your door only to take off like the _coward_ I am.

And whether it be you- Louis, Jay, Mark, or one of Louis’ sisters that just so happens to be reading this page of this book- whether you skipped ahead or have made it to the end -I want you to understand.

Please, try to understand.

And, if you are reading this Louis. If you have read every word in this book, I want you to know, that I hate myself just as much as you do. I mean, you hate me right? I can't see how you wouldn't.

My heart still only beats for you, my love. After all, you are the air in my lungs, the beat of my heart, the soul to my body, the blood in my veins, the feeling in my nerves, and my sixth sense.

 _Forever._ My love for you has a name, and I address it as Forever, and hopefully one day, I'll meet you again in a different day and age, and we can share a Forever of our own together.

Yours truly,

Harry Edward Styles.


	16. I Write To You A Poem On The Last Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twin Soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Little Something-Something because I love you guys, also this is v important to the second book :)))))))
> 
> Read the tags, you know the drill. *blows whistle*
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own One Direction. This is fanfic.

You have eyes that hypnotize me, that read me like your favorite novel.

You have a voice that persuades me, that croons in my ear like my favorite song.

You have a touch that ignites me, that burns like the brightest of flames.

You have a kiss that excites me, that loves me from the inside out.

You have a love that hurts me, that is silent and nonexistent.

You have a soul that completes me, you're the other half of me.

 

\- My Twin Soul. 


End file.
